


Per Se

by maggs689



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Feelings!, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Louis Gets His Groove Back, M/M, NYC Bars of the Early 00's, Niall Owns a Bar, Pratfalls with Liam, Restaurant Food Scene, Secrets, Sexually-Suggestive Food, That Loveable Scamp Harry Styles, Zayn's Terrible Graffiti, fun sexy times, molecular gastronomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-11-06 21:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11044470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggs689/pseuds/maggs689
Summary: Louis Tomlinson is the maitre d' at Per Se, a three-Michelin star restaurant in New York City. When a bad review throws the future of the restaurant in jeopardy and an enigmatic new chef is hired, Louis's whole life might change. But is he ready?





	1. Chapter 1

"Now, approach the table," Louis said in a calm, sing-song voice, "and come to a rest." He paused to look at the four servers poised around the table, each one holding a dinner plate in their left hand. "Deep breath, and shift to the ri-"

The servers inhaled and gently shifted to the right. All except for Cliff, who lurched left, right into Austin.

"STOP! Oh my god, when will you four be able to tell your right from your left?" Louis exclaimed, exasperated. "You should be breathing and moving as one unit but you wankers act like you're playing bumper cars. Aren't any of you dancers?"

"I'm an actor," said Cliff.

"I'm an opera singer," said Scott.

"I'm a writer," said Michael.

"I get it. I'm going to have to bring in that ballet dancer again to work with you four. Until you can get this right, you're not going to be working lunch service, which starts in," he looked down at his watch, "35 minutes."

"Yes, sir," the four young waiters said in unison, heads bowed.

"Fine, good day. Please get haircuts before your next training session. This shagginess is not acceptable." Louis turned on his heel toward the large windows looking out over Central Park and waited until he could feel that the waiters had moved away out of the dining room.

Lunch service at Per Se started at 11:30 and every table had been reserved. Every table for lunch and dinner had been reserved for the next six months. This was par for the course since Louis had started as maitre d'hotel at the Michelin-starred restaurant in New York City.

He had moved to New York to pursue music but that dream was long in the past. Louis had tried to become a musician in America but quickly ran out of money while waiting to be discovered. He turned to the skills that he had learned during his years of working as a waiter in shitty restaurants in Doncaster, and then working as a head waiter and then a maitre d' at several less shitty restaurants in London. Although he hadn't intended to spend his life in the restaurant business, he had to admit that his fastidiousness, his inexhaustible energy, and his ability to motivate people made him an ideal maitre d'. He had landed at Per Se in 2010 and was immediately satisfied with his work managing the front of house. But his work was his life. There was no time for friends or music anymore, let alone a relationship, when he worked 80 hours a week.

A bang from the front of the restaurant made Louis jump. He looked down at his watch. The first guests shouldn't be arriving for another half hour. Who had even unlocked the blue doors into the Time Warner Center? Louis moved into the salon, but before he knew it a man with silver hair in a black suit sprinted by him.

"Simon?" Louis ran after the man, who was clutching a newspaper and trailing two hapless assistants. "What's happened?" Louis pursued the trio through the dining room and the staging area, and then through the double doors into the kitchen area.

"Have you seen it?" Simon shouted over his shoulder as he wound through the hallway in the prep area.

"Seen what?" Louis shouted back.

"The REVIEW" Simon bellowed as he burst through the final set of double doors into the main kitchen. Clusters of sous-chefs, bent over plates with tweezers and hovering near sauce pans with spoons, looked up. Simon strode across the kitchen in two long steps and flung the newspaper at Chef Eli Kaimeh. The newspaper fell open on the table in front of the Head Chef.

"May I help you?" Eli said slowly with a flat expression on his face. His distaste for Simon Cowell, the East Coast General Manager of all of Thomas Keller's restaurants, including Per Se, was well known.

"You fucking MAY," Simon spat. "You MAY explain this review in the New York Times. You MAY educate me why PETE FUCKING WELLS just took TWO FUCKING STARS from this restaurant!" Simon's face was slightly flushed and his usually posh British accent had taken on a decidedly working-class edge as he shouted.

Eli's eyes widened and the sous-chefs gasped and started whispering to each other. One thin, dramatic young saucier burst into tears and ran from the room (and right into the pantry).

"This restaurant has been number one in the country for SIXTEEN YEARS. It will have only two stars over my dead body."

"Well-" Eli began before his deputy Liam Payne stepped deftly in front of him.

"Sir, may Chef have a minute to read this review before anyone says anything that they can't take back?" Liam looked like he was holding his breath.

"I don't need a response. I need this fixed. Immediately," Simon growled and then strode sharply out of the kitchen.

The whole kitchen exhaled as soon as the double doors swung behind him.

Louis cleared his throat. "Chef, lunch service begins in 20 minutes."

"Yes, thank you Louis." Eli looked downcast as he turned back to his plating and his sauces. Slowly the rest of the kitchen staff bent once again over their tasks.

"Payne, may I speak with you? And bring the newspaper." Louis turned to leave the kitchen and Liam followed Louis to his small office off the staging area. They sat on opposite sides of the desk.

Louis wasn't sure how to begin. "How...how did this happen?" Louis asked, shaking his head. "We knew Wells was here. We knew a review was coming, but this?"

Liam frowned and leaned toward the desk. "I think it's Eli. I think he's lost his touch." His big brown eyes looked sad, like he was breaking bad news about a sick family member.

"What are you talking about? Everything is perfect." Louis was shocked to hear Liam, the most loyal of all of the sous chefs in the kitchen, say something so negative about the head chef.

"Everything is not perfect. Look at this," Liam picked up the newspaper that was sitting on desk between them. " 'A dismal green pulp of cooked romaine lettuce, crunchy and mushy at once.' 'On two occasions the lobster was intransigently chewy: gristle of the sea.' 'A lukewarm matsutake mushroom bouillon as murky and appealing as bong water.' Okay, that one's a little funny," Liam chuckled to himself.

"It's not funny!," Louis hissed and grabbed the newspaper. "Everything is as it always has been."

"That's the problem, Louis. This place is stale. Eli is stale. I've been thinking..." Liam trailed off.

"Thinking of what? Leaving?" Louis gasped. "I don't have time for this. You're not going anywhere. I need you here." Liam was Louis' closest friend at the restaurant, the one he went to complain about troublesome customers, or when he was feeling burnt out or restless. If things at Per Se were going bad and Liam left, what would that mean for Louis? He didn't want anything to change. He hated change.

Louis got up and went toward the door, pausing with one hand on the doorknob. "Look Liam, go back to the kitchen. Don't say anything to Eli. Simon will calm down and we'll figure all this out." Louis left Liam in the office and went out into the dining room. There was no sign of Simon but the wait staff was there making final preparations for lunch service. The lunch staff was smaller than the dinner staff but no less professional. Each one was wearing a flawless white button-down shirt and a crisp black suit. All of the men had the same neat haircut and the women were subtly yet neatly coiffed. All of the waiters at Per Se fit the mold: conservatively and identically dressed, no visible tattoos or piercings, no jewelry, no nail polish. Uniformity. Nothing to distract from the singular experience of the food.

Louis was sure that they had heard about the review. Restaurants were incorrigibly gossipy places and he could hear the waiters whispering among themselves. But Louis put his shoulders back and strode through the dining room toward the front door as if nothing had happened and the wait staff scurried into place and fell silent behind him.

This was his favorite part of the day: throwing the iconic blue Per Se doors open to signal the start of something magical. Welcoming new guests and greeting familiar faces. This wasn't time to focus on bad reviews or negative opinions. Louis took a deep breath and opened the doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to Eli Kaimeh and Thomas Keller, who are real and run the very real Per Se, but have nothing to do with the fake Per Se in this universe.
> 
> Here is the very real Pete Wells review of Per Se in the New York Times on January 12, 2016. https://www.nytimes.com/2016/01/13/dining/pete-wells-per-se-review.html  
> (Apologies to Pete Wells as well.)


	2. Chapter 2

At the end of the evening – after the last diners had been smoothly escorted out the front door with their gift bags (and their wallets several hundred dollars lighter), after the kitchen had been scrubbed of the day’s messes and everything was dim and silent – Louis sat in his office enjoying a glass of scotch. He kept the bottle, one that a regular customer had given him last year, hidden in his desk where the kitchen staff wouldn’t find it. The small lamp on his desk was the only illumination in the room. Louis swirled the caramel-colored liquid in his glass and watched the light cast highlights on the surface.

“Louis?,” Liam said quietly just outside the door right as Louis took a small sip of the scotch. “You’re the last one. Will you lock the door behind you?”

“I’m just leaving now,” Louis murmured. He heard Liam start to move away and called out. “Liam?”

“Yes?”

“Dinner service was good tonight. No one mentioned the review. Mr. and Mrs. Brooke were in for their anniversary and they seemed as happy as ever.” Louis didn’t know why he was babbling like this to Liam, looking for reassurance that Liam wouldn’t be able to give him.

“Are you alright, Lou?,” Liam asked, his face creased and tired.

Louis sighed. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Louis gave a small wave and then listened as Liam’s footsteps grew fainter.

Louis emerged from the Time Warner Center into the cool spring evening air a few minutes later. He stood watching the traffic move around Columbus Circle – cabs mostly, but still a lot of traffic for 1 am – and wondered if he should go home. He started walking south in the direction of his apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. It was 15 blocks away and the night air would do him some good (and being alone in his apartment certainly would not).

After walking for a few minutes, Louis made a quick decision and turned left onto 45th Street. He pushed open the door at The Perfect Pint between 6th and 7th Avenues. Louis wouldn’t usually seek out a relatively generic Irish pub in the Theater District in Midtown, except the fact that his closest friend in New York (maybe his only friend in New York?) Niall Horan owned the place.

Niall spotted Louis as soon as he walked in and started right in on him. “Well, looky looky what the cat dragged in, some stranger who never comes around anymore,” Niall said loudly enough for all of the bar’s patrons – all five of them – to hear. He came around the bar with a smile on his face. “It’s good to see you, Louis,” he said more quietly. “How have you been?”

“Good, busy,” Louis said noncommittally, trying to avoid Niall’s searching look. How could that bleached blond little bastard always tell when something was bothering Louis? “How’s business?”

Niall threw his arms out and laughed. “What business? Ah, we had a right big crowd in earlier but things died around midnight. Want a pint?”

What a question. Louis had never turned down a pint in his life. Niall was already heading behind the bar and pulling a pint of Carlsberg. If business was down, Niall didn’t let it get to him. He had a spring in his step and was always cheerful. Louis wondered how Niall could always be so resilient, so upbeat.

“Cheers mate,” Niall toasted Louis and they both took long sips of their beers. That was another of Niall’s talents. He could drink a pint with every customer in the bar all day long but was always sober. They made them differently in Ireland.

Louis had met Niall while they lived in London. Niall was the bartender at the pub down the street from the restaurant where Louis worked and they became friends. They met up often for late-night pints after their shifts to commiserate and talk football. Niall moved to New York before Louis because he had the opportunity to buy The Perfect Pint from an Irish friend of his. Niall then encouraged Louis to follow him to New York.

Niall had always supported Louis’ music aspirations and even gave Louis the chance to play sets in The Perfect Pint when he first moved to New York. Niall played the guitar, so he would accompany Louis and sometimes sing backup if the spirit moved him. Louis had stopped doing regular sets ages ago but sometimes on quiet nights, he would agree to sing a few with Niall.

Like tonight. The pub was practically empty and Louis saw that Niall already had his guitar up by the mic stand, perhaps in hopes that Louis would stop by. Niall cocked his head to the left and raised an eyebrow, and the two friends moved toward the small stage with their pints. “Thatta boy,” Niall said as he patted Louis on the back and picked up his guitar. “Want to do the new one I wrote?”

Louis wrinkled his nose. “The song you wrote about writing a song?”

“Very funny,” Niall said. “I can sing it by myself if you’re too cool for my song.”

“No, fine,” Louis muttered as Niall started playing the opening notes. It was a sweet song, something Louis might have written when he was in love and needed to tell someone how he felt. That wasn’t him anymore and that’s why he teased Niall, but he liked the song anyway.

_I want to write you a song_

_One that’s beautiful as you are sweet_

_With just a hint of pain for the feeling that I get when you are gone_

_I wanna write you a song._

Louis took a breath and the next verse.

_I wanna lend you my coat_

_One that’s a soft as your cheek_

_So when the world is cold you’ll have a hiding place where you can go_

_I wanna lend you my coat._

Louis and Niall sang the chorus together, and Louis finished with the last verse.

_I wanna write you a song_

_One to make your heart remember me_

_So any time I’m gone, you can listen to my voice and sing along_

Niall played the last few notes of the song without noticing that Louis had stopped singing before the end. Louis stood up abruptly and went over to the bar to down the last of his beer. Niall put his hand on Louis’ arm to stop him.

“Mate, I’m sorry. I forgot about how much Zayn loved that song and everything,” Niall said with a sad look in his eyes.

Louis waved his hand as he picked up his jacket from the bar stool. “No, it’s fine. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day and things at the restaurant…” He trailed off.

“Yeah, I saw the review. I’m sorry, man.” Niall drew Louis into a bear hug. “If you need anything,” he said quietly near Louis’ ear, “call me. I’m always up.”

Louis nodded before heading toward the door.

“Hey Louis,” Niall called when Louis reached the door. “Your voice sounded really great.” And then he smiled.

***

Louis let himself into his apartment on the second floor of a three-story walkup building on West 44th Street between 8th and 9th Avenues. It wasn’t the nicest area in New York City, but it was close to work and it was (miraculously) rent controlled. The apartment was technically a two-bedroom, but the second bedroom was little more than a glorified closet. Louis dropped his keys and his coat by the door and shuffled down the hallway toward the bedroom, already half asleep. He stopped by the door to the second bedroom, which was slightly ajar.

Louis pushed the door open with his foot and peeked his head in. In the semi-darkness, he could just make out the piano against one wall and a graffiti mural on the other. Zayn’s masterpiece, now a permanent reminder of the fact that Zayn was gone. Louis sighed and pulled the door shut behind him before going to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the Perfect Pint in Midtown Manhattan, and to the cheerful Irish bartender that entertained me one cold February evening. 
> 
> Also thanks to Lianne from Ohio, whose Hell's Kitchen walk-up (with extra bedroom and graffiti wall) served as the inspiration for Louis's apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

Louis was at the restaurant earlier than usual, thanks to waking up early and being unable to fall back asleep. Columbus Circle was already bustling with activity and tourists, but things were quiet inside the Time Warner Center when Louis let himself in the front door of Per Se. As he padded through the salon, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet, and moved into the dining room, Louis could just hear music coming from somewhere in the back of the restaurant. Had someone left a radio on last night?

  
Louis wound his way through the prep area and down the hallways into the kitchen, looking furtively into each prep room and alcove along the way for the source of the music, which was growing louder. Chef Kaimeh never permitted anything other than harp music played at the lowest level in his kitchen, even during prep periods. This sounded like…  
It sounded like AC/DC.

Louis pushed open the swinging door into the kitchen and his mouth fell open. There was a man that Louis had never seen before shimmying and gyrating around the kitchen. He was singing into the bulb end of a very large whisk that he held up like a microphone.

“Cause the walls were shakin’, the Earth was quakin’, my mind was achin’, and we were making it, and YOU shook me ALL NIIIIIIIGHT LONG,” the man scream-sang into the whisk while he slithered around the kitchen. The man was literally dancing like no one was watching, except Louis was there. “Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah YOU! Shook me-“ The man skidded to a stop in front of Louis, who stood stock still in the doorway. The music continued blaring out of a boom box on the prep table.

The man ran his right hand through his curly shoulder-length hair and smiled sheepishly. “Oh wow, I didn’t know that anyone would be here this early. Except for me,” he said in a low voice as he awkwardly shuffled his feet in his motorcycle boots.

Louis merely raised his eyebrows and walked slowly over to the boom box to turn off the music. He turned to face the man, who was tugging on the hem of his white t-shirt. The shirt looked ratty but Louis knew that it was expensive. Louis had spent a lot of time around very rich people at the restaurant and there was definitely a trick to this, wearing expensive things that look inexpensive at first look but actually are of good quality. The man was also wearing the tightest pair of black jeans that Louis had ever seen, and Louis found himself gawking at the man’s long, long legs and the snug fit of his pants around his very generous –

“I’m Harry Styles. I’m the new chef,” the man said as he extended a hand bearing four chunky silver rings.

Louis snapped to attention. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Did Simon not tell you? Oh no, I thought everyone here already knew that I had been hired. I came all the way from Paris – I just arrived last night actually – and I’m supposed to start today only I don’t even know your name or what time dinner service starts? The sous chefs are going to be here at 8 and I can’t find anything and….and I’m babbling and you’re not saying anything.”

Louis turned around and walked out of the kitchen. This wasn’t happening. There wasn’t some maniac who claimed he was the new chef in the kitchen. The restaurant wasn’t falling apart around him. He put his hands up by his ears and hummed quietly to himself as he snaked through the hallway to his office.

“Liam will be here soon and we will straighten this out, Liam will know what to do,” Louis muttered to himself. He sat heavily in his desk chair and let out a sharp breath. Louis suddenly realized that his office door was still open and he bolted up to push it shut just in case, but right before he had it closed a hand shot out.

“Hello again! Harry, remember from the kitchen?” Harry had wedged his whole body through the door. Why was this crazy man smiling so broadly? “Um, I’m worried that you’re in shock or something? Do you need help or should we call Simon?”

Simon! Yes! Simon will straighten this whole thing out, Louis thought. Louis dialed the number for Simon’s cell phone on speaker so that Harry would hear the conversation.

“Hello, Louis? I’m so glad that you called,” Simon’s voice boomed out of the speaker.

“Hi Simon, I’m here with someone who says that he works here and I just don’t see how-“

“Oh good, Harry is there!”

“Hi Simon,” Harry practically shouted at the phone.

“Harry, my boy! Good to hear your voice. How was your flight?”

“It was good! No delays and I had the most wonderful ice cream sundae in first class-“

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Louis interrupted impatiently, “but what the hell is going on Simon?”

“Louis, I’m sorry, I should have told you yesterday but things were so hectic. I had already hired Harry here to work on a concept out at the French Laundry but I diverted him to Per Se when I saw that things were going badly, especially after the review yesterday. Eli has taken a leave of absence and I’ve given Harry free reign to work his magic there at Per Se.”

Louis looked up at Harry, who was reclining comfortably in the chair on the other side of his desk. Harry smiled at him and – did that son of a bitch just wink at him?

“Harry is going to talk with the kitchen staff today and I need you to work with the front of the house, Louis. There may be some changes and I need everyone to be willing to take Harry’s direction. Are you still there, Louis?”

“Yes, I’m here,” Louis croaked. His throat was dry and he was having trouble forming coherent thoughts. What about today’s dinner reservations, were they still going to be able to manage a regular service today, this week, with all of this upheaval? What would the press say? Would the restaurant’s reputation suffer even more? Simon was droning on about moving forward and Per Se staying relevant and fresh. but Louis could only think about the fact this new chef had his feet up on his desk and was that Harry that smelled like vanilla?

“Ok, great, thanks Simon!” Harry shouted again, breaking Louis out of his reverie. Harry reached out to press the button to end the call and then stood up quickly. He clapped his hands together. “So! Let’s get started, shall we?”

Louis sighed and motioned toward the door. “You go meet with the kitchen staff. I’ll be here with front of house and I’ll bring them up to speed.” If I can figure out what’s going on myself, Louis thought.

Harry practically bounded out of the office and Louis could hear him greeting the arriving kitchen staff with a level of enthusiasm that Eli had never mustered. What was going to happen to his quiet, staid restaurant under the helm of this giddy toddler chef? Louis went to find Liam and figure out what to do next.


	4. Chapter 4

Louis spent the next hour corralling nervous front-of-house staff as they arrived and helping Liam breathe into a paper bag. He gathered the staff in the dining room so that he could introduce Harry, the mysterious man that they had only heard rumors about thus far. They weren’t the only curious ones. Louis also was wondering what to expect because he could hear laughter and clapping coming from the usually quiet kitchen.

"Hello everyone," Harry boomed out as he burst through the door into the dining room. Was that man capable of making a quiet entrance? "I'm Harry Styles and I am here to serve as chef. I've just had a lovely chat with the kitchen staff and I'm very happy to meet all of you too." Harry strode down the line of servers, who stood still with their chins level like a row of soldiers being inspected by their general. Louis stood at the end of the line.

"Louis my man," Harry clasped Louis on the shoulder, "why don't you introduce me."

Louis went down the line giving Harry the name of each server and telling Harry how long each had been with Per Se. Each server acknowledged the introduction with a curt head nod.

"Okay, good, yes," Harry said, turning back to Louis. "And what do you all do for fun?"

"Fun?" Louis asked, shifting his eyes to look at the line of servers. They had all whipped their heads around to look at him.

"You're all lined up here like the Von Trapp children in your matching outfits. But surely there's some life in all of you," Harry mused. 

After a pause, a voice came from the end of the line. "I'm an opera singer."

"Jesus Christ, Cliff, not now," Louis huffed impatiently.

"No! That's it!," Harry said excitedly and lunged toward Cliff. "That's exactly the thing! You're a singer! You're people, not just faceless servers who match the drapes. Let's bring out a little personality in you!"

Louis rolled his eyes, but before he knew it, the entire front of house staff was gathered around Harry. They were all chattering excitedly about their hobbies and their pet interests. Michael was even showing Harry the new tattoo on his forearm.

"Louis!" Harry looked up excitedly. "Come see this! Michael here – Michael right? Michael has this beautiful tattoo on his arm that is a version of a painting that his grandfather did. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Lovely," Louis said drily as he moved a step closer to the group.

"He should show this off. You should show this off!" Harry gushed.

"He's free to, just not at Per Se," Louis said primly.

"Why not? Louis, really. Let's let these beautiful people show who they are. The food, the staff, all of this should be an expression of our passions." Harry was gesturing wildly at the restaurant around him. Michael ducked so he wouldn't be hit in the face by one of Harry's flailing limbs.

Louis set his mouth into a line and raised his eyebrows. How much of this nonsense was going to go on before Harry got down to cooking the menu and left Louis to his business?

"Louis, may I speak with you?" Harry didn't wait for an answer and pulled Louis into the salon by his elbow.

"Harry, I really need to start getting things set up for today-"

"Louis, I'm sorry to interrupt your anxiety attack here, but I'm sensing a lot of resistance from you." Harry paused. Harry was standing disconcertingly close to Louis and that vanilla smell was overwhelming Louis' ability to concentrate on what he was saying.   
Harry was gesturing around him again. "Honestly, you're a smart person. You read the review. Everything here is stale and I'm here to change it. I mean, look around you! Just the décor needs a change. Look at these drapes! And this carpet! Everything this dull blood red color and everything's curved and this wavy wall art, Jesus, it's like...it's like..."

"Being inside a vagina," Louis cracked. 

Harry let out a bark of a laugh and then slapped his hand over his mouth. He glanced at Louis to check to see if he was still being serious, but Louis had already covered his mouth with both hands to stifle a torrent of giggles. Harry threw back his head laughing.   
When Liam came in a moment later, Louis and Harry were doubled over in laughter and hanging on to each other. 

"Oh! Liam!" Harry called out. "Liam, you have to hear what Louis just said about-" 

Louis gave Harry a discreet shake of the head to cut him off. Sometimes Liam really didn't get his humor. Plus a small part of Louis liked having a private joke with Harry. Louis herded them back into the dining room where the front of house staff was milling around. 

Harry clapped his hands together. "So, I've discussed it with the kitchen staff and I'm going to do a tasting of the chef's menu at noon. Michael, Cliff, you'll serve and do it like you'd usually do. And," Harry whirled around to face Louis where he was lurking in the entrance to the salon, "Louis! Will you dine with me?"

"Me?" Louis sputtered. 

"Yeah," Harry said quietly, stepping toward Louis and smiling softly. "I think it'd be nice."  
Louis paused. What did he have to lose? It was just a meal. "Ok, you heard him. We dine at noon!"

****

"So, this is the worst table in the house?" Harry asked.

"Mmm," Louis said as he steered Harry toward the first table in the elevated section of the dining room. "You don't get the view of Columbus Circle from the upper section and the table is right in traffic so you have no privacy."

"Ok," Harry shrugged. He stepped quickly by Louis to pull Louis' chair out for him. "Your seat sir."

Louis felt himself blush, which was ridiculous because he wasn't a teenager. Was he going to get an unexpected erection next? Oh my god, oh my god, don't think about erections, don’t think about erections.

"Louis?" Harry had asked him something but he was so busy thinking about the unthinkable that he had missed it. "You'll choose the wines?"

Louis nodded and folded his napkin safely on his lap. Louis half-listened as Harry read a copy of the tasting menu and asked Cliff questions. Louis was looking around the dining room, which was dimly lit and quiet. Even though all of the tables around them were empty, the restaurant was usually this quiet even when it was full. Maybe Harry was right. Maybe it was a little too sedate here.

Michael came over with an iPad with the wine list to hand to Louis. "You're joking," Harry said flatly. "A digital wine list is the tackiest thing I've ever seen."

"It's efficient," Louis corrected him. 

"Of all of the modern touches! It's tacky! That has to go."

Louis sighed. Was this whole meal going to be a rundown of things Harry thought Louis was doing wrong?

Soon after, Cliff came out with the gruyere cheese gougeres, the first of the two amuse bouches. Harry quickly popped one in his mouth and made some "mmmmm" noises to himself. The next amuse bouche followed quickly as Harry seemed to give the gougeres little to no thought. With a flourish, Cliff put the tray holding the famous salmon coronets on the table between Louis and Harry.

"This dish was famously inspired by Chef Keller's experience at an ice cream parlor!," Cliff proudly announced before quickly turning on his heel and mincing away.

Harry looked questioningly at Louis who shrugged. "It's supposed to be playful."

"It's so sad that this...this...tube of raw salmon that looks like a penis is what passes for playful around here," Harry griped.

"Do you like anything about this restaurant?" Louis snapped.

Harry smiled that sly smile of his, like he knew that he had gotten Louis' goat. "I'll let you know when I see something that I like," Harry said and then popped the salmon coronet into his mouth. 

A series of courses followed, one more decadent than the next. Harry quietly sampled each course but was otherwise unusually quiet, so Louis had to work to keep up a running patter of facts about the restaurant. Harry seemed somewhat impressed by the famous oysters and pearls dish but, as the plate was whisked away, Louis heard him mutter something about the dollop of caviar on top being a cheap trick. Harry looked completely disgusted by the butter-poached lobster tail and by the time the cheese course arrived, he looked downright upset. He was tapping his knife against the base of his champagne glass and making a furious clamor when Louis finally had had enough.

"Harry? Are you even listening to what Cliff is saying about the cheese?"

Harry pushed his chair back from the table but didn't get up. All he did was throw his hands up and shout, "It's too much food!"

"Excuse me?" Cliff, his face suddenly turning pale.

"All 13 of these courses! The boring fish, and the chewy lobster, and that completely uninventive lamb medallion. Then more fish! And then more cheese and all the bread! No one in their life has eaten this much bread! And I know there are three desserts coming, and that ludicrous box of chocolates. It's dreary! This is the Battan Death March of tasting menus!"

"Cliff, could you excuse us. Chef is little emotional right now," Louis whispered to Cliff.

"I heard that," Harry grumbled as the door to the prep area swung shut behind Cliff. "Louis, this menu," Harry started. 

"It's a delicious menu."

"Is a staid menu like this the reason you started working in restaurants? Can you remember what you were passionate about when you started here?"

Louis looked down at the napkin resting in his lap. 

"What is it? Have I said something wrong?" Harry asked, resting his hand on top of Louis' hand on the table.

"No, you're fine, it's just...," Louis stalled while trying to think of the words. "I was passionate about music and I just sort of ended up in restaurants when that dream didn't work out." He felt himself blushing. He rarely talked about music to anyone anymore, let alone to enigmatic strangers that he just met that morning.

"Oh Louis," Harry sighed.

"No, don't feel sorry for me," Louis cautioned.

"I don't feel sorry for you! I'm very happy that you found something that you're really good at. I'm only sad that you haven't found a way to fit music into this life." 

"Well, sometimes I sing at my friend Niall's bar."

"Oh?," Harry said, brightening. "I'd like to see that sometime."

Louis smiled at Harry, and for a moment all of the stress that had been building since the bad review the day before seemed to melt away. 

"Now," Harry said, taking Louis' hand and pulling him to his feet. "We have a lot of work to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not only is the Per Se wine list presented on an iPad, there's an app: https://itunes.apple.com/ag/app/per-se-wine-list/id414948687?mt=8
> 
> The Per Se salmon coronets are real and really phallic: http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2016/01/13/dining/per-se/s/13REST-slide-KN4M.html  
> Click through for pics of the real oysters and pearls and butter poached lobster dishes.


	5. Chapter 5

Louis spent the rest of the day and most of the next in his office, dealing with putting Per Se out of commission for a month while the entire operation was overhauled. He struggled a little with rearranging long-held reservations, but was able to finesse the feelings of many customers by promising exclusive access to the new restaurant when it reopened. The rest of the front of the house staff was busy packing away all of the linens and every piece of cutlery, dinnerware, and stemware, as Harry directed. When Louis emerged from his office, he was shocked to see that the dining room was mostly dismantled and that the tables, usually draped in several layers of long tablecloths, were bare. 

Louis caught up with Liam in the hallway near the kitchen. Harry had been shut in there with the sous chefs and kitchen staff for a day and a half, and Louis was anxious to know what had been going on. More alarmingly, the usually calm Liam was vibrating with energy.  
"Louis, you don’t even know what's going on in there. It's like a whole new world of food and we're going to be right on the forefront of everything and it's so exciting!" Liam ended with a yelp and embraced Louis, lifting the smaller man up off the ground and spinning him around. Liam set Louis down and disappeared back into the kitchen with a big grin.

"Everyone here has lost their fucking minds," Louis grumbled as he walked back to his office, but he found himself smiling nonetheless. Liam's enthusiasm – Harry's enthusiasm, really - was infectious.

****

The next day, Harry came into Louis's office early and plopped down into the chair across from the desk. 

"Espresso?" Louis asked, looking up from his computer at Harry, who yet again had his feet propped up on his desk.

"Love one," Harry said in a low voice. "Didn't know you've been hiding an espresso machine in here," he said as he tried to peer around the desk to the private area where Louis kept his prized possession – a DeLonghi Gran Dama espresso machine – away from the prying eyes of the staff.

"It was a gift."

"You have expensive taste," Harry mused as Louis handed him a fresh demitasse cup of espresso. "Mmm, this is delicious. Where are these beans from?"

"Dunkin' Donuts," Louis deadpanned. Harry laughed in surprise and snorted espresso up his nose.

They chuckled together for a moment and then fell into companionable silence while they finished their espressos. 

"So, I need to talk to you about sourcing some new dinnerware for the menu," Harry began. "We'll need something that will hold a two-by-two-by-two-foot block of ice, and planks and hollowed out logs of various types of wood, slates inset with a heating element, and nests made out of woven branches."

Louis was writing furiously, trying to get down all of these details and wondering what the hell the nest would be for. Was Harry going to have a bird lay an egg directly on the table? 

Harry continued. "Silicon sheets the size of the tables, wire frames to hang items from, asymmetrical dishes with depressions in the center, ones with a hole for a skewer to pass through. Are you getting all of this down?"

Louis nodded and tried not to look exasperated. A lot of this material would have to be custom made. The staff was going to be hard pressed to find all of these items in time for the reopening in less than 4 weeks.

"And we're going to need some kitchen equipment." Harry was on his feet now, pacing around the small office. "Blowtorches, something that I can use to make balloons out of taffy. I'll need to have my sous-vide sent from Paris." Harry came to an abrupt stop in front of Louis' chair. "I'm really worried, Louis." 

"There's enough time," Louis lied. He stood up and put a hand on each of Harry's shoulders. "We can do this. I'll help. We'll get everything done." 

Harry smiled and Louis felt Harry's shoulders relax under his touch. "You're very sweet." Harry moved out of the office and Louis sat down to go over the list. He'd have to start making calls right away.

Suddenly Harry popped his head back in. "We should go out!"

"What?" Louis' head snapped up. "Harry, I don't think that-"

"All of us! The whole staff! We've been working hard and there are going to be a lot of long days ahead. Let's unwind a little, all get to know each other a little. What do you say?"

A tiny part of Louis was instantly disappointed that Harry was proposing a group outing. For a second, for just a second he thought that Harry was asking him...

"Louis?," Harry looked at him questioningly.

"That's a great idea!," Louis managed, hoping that his face wasn't bright red and wouldn't give him away.

"Okay!," Harry clapped his hands together. "Tonight then! I'll tell everyone!" 

Once Harry was gone, Louis slumped back in his desk chair. He was so stupid to think that Harry meant that they should go out. Harry was focused on the restaurant. He wasn't thinking about the shape of Louis' legs in his jeans or how Louis' smile lit up the room or the melody of Louis' throaty laugh. 

Oh god, Louis put his head in his hands. How was he supposed to revamp this restaurant alongside Harry when all he could think about was Harry?


	6. Chapter 6

Louis arrived at the staff outing at 10pm. He had spent an inordinate amount of time on his hair and outfit before settling on a high quiff and skinny black jeans, a super soft black muscle tee, and an old pair of Vans. He threw on a worn hoodie since it was a little chilly out. The bar that Harry suggested for the outing was Lit Lounge, a dingy place downtown on 2nd Avenue between 5th and 6th Streets. Louis had never been there, but he hadn't been out much of anywhere lately except for Niall's. He googled the bar and found out that it had an art gallery in the back and was on a list of top 10 bars in New York City to find a one-night stand. It sounded exactly like a place that Harry would suggest.

Liam and the rest of the kitchen staff were already crowded around the bar jostling for shots when Louis arrived. The lighting was dim and red-hued, and he struggled to make out the faces of his coworkers in the crowd. It seemed that everyone had brought a girlfriend or a friend (or two), so there were a lot of people that Louis didn't know. He threaded his way toward the bar and was surprised to find Niall seated at the end next to Harry. Their heads were bent together, Harry's curly locks falling forward as he talked insistently into Niall's ear. 

"Louis!," Niall jumped up when he spotted him. "I was just meeting Harry here." Niall enveloped Louis in a bear hug and Louis could smell the beer on his breath. "He's quite interesting. And he's been asking a lot about you," Niall whispered in his ear. As he pulled away, Niall gave a look that signaled that more would be discussed later.

"Louis, hi," Harry sighed and also pulled Louis into a hug, sloshing a fruity margarita onto the shoulder of Louis' hoodie in the process.  
"How long have you both been here?," Louis asked as he slid his hoodie off of his shoulders.

"An hour or so? I was just getting to know your friend Niall here," Harry looked around for Niall who had disappeared into the crowd. Harry handed Louis his margarita and gestured to the bartender for another. He looked back at Louis, whose arms were suddenly bare. 

"Oh, you have a lot of tattoos. What do they mean?"

"They mean I drank too much when I was young. What do all of yours mean?"

"Oh, they're all incredibly meaningful," Harry said mock-seriously. 

"Is that true? What about the boat? What does that mean?"

"It's just a boat," Harry murmured with a small smile on his face.

"Just a boat? It covers your entire upper arm."

"What? I like boats and nautical things. I think the sea is romantic. I have these swallows-," Harry started to explain as he pulled the neckline of his thin white t-shirt down a few inches.

"Yes, I know," Louis interrupted. "They're on your chest. Did you know that all of your shirts are basically transparent?"

"Thank you for noticing," Harry quipped, picking up his drink. "Cheers, to our new endeavor."

"Cheers," Louis raised his glass and took a sip of the margarita. “This margarita’s not too bad.”

“Good, because I got you another,” Harry said, pushing another full margarita into Louis’ empty hand. 

Suddenly, a roar went up in the corner of the bar, where a clutch of pastry chefs was engaged in some elaborate drinking game. Louis turned to see what was going on. Before he could turn back to the bar, Louis noticed Harry surging forward and elbowing his way into the crowd of pastry chefs. Louis threw back one of his margaritas and followed Harry.

“Oi! Oi! Lads! What are we playing?,” Harry shouted at the pastry chefs, who turned to him in unison and threw up a roar. Harry raised his glass in response and cheered along with them. He looked around and gestured for Louis to join him in the tight circle around the pastry chefs’ table.

“Hi Chef! Hi Louis!,” Liam exclaimed. He was playing the drinking game with the pastry chefs and had obviously lost quite a few rounds. “We’re playing Ping Pang Pong! I learned it during my internship in Japan!”

“You know how to play this game, Payne? You look like you’re losing,” Louis shouted, to the delight of the assembled chefs. “Alright, what are the rules?”

The pastry chef next to Liam was considerably soberer and explained the rules: The first player in the circle says “ping,” the next player to the right says “pang,” and the next player to the right says “pong” while pointing to any other random player in the circle. That random player has to say “ping” right away, and then the sequence repeats with the players to the random player’s right. Any player who doesn’t say the right word or respond quickly enough has to drink.

“We have sooo many shots and I’m really bad,” Liam explained. Louis looked down at the table, which was littered with what must be most of the bar’s collection of shot glasses. Most were full of some brown liquor but there were a lot of empty shot glasses in front of Liam.

“Alright lads, let’s go!,” Louis shouted and the game started. He held his own for the first few rounds because he had been the last to start drinking. Harry, meanwhile, did terribly, dissolving into giggles each time Liam slurred “pang!” and missing his turn. 

“Lou, do a shot with me!,” he yelled into Louis’ ear. “I keep drinking and you keep winning and it’s not fair!” Harry handed Louis two shots and gave him a coy smile. “Please?”

“Alright, but then I need a smoke,” Louis said. He tried to look displeased but Harry was jumping up and down with excitement as Louis did several shots in a row. 

“Let’s go downstairs,” Harry said. He grabbed Louis’ arm before Louis could ask what was happening. Harry led him to the back of the bar and turned a corner just beyond the bathrooms. There was a rickety wooden staircase leading down into a dark basement.

“Where are we going?”

“To have a smoke,” Harry called over his shoulder. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Louis could see that the basement was lit with red light. There was electronic music thumping all around him, making him feel like his heart was beating out of his whole body.

“What the hell is this place? It looks like a medieval dungeon.” There were alcoves made of brick and stone along the length of the basement. Each was dimly lit with flickering tea lights. Harry made for the farthest alcove and perched on a low ledge. 

“How do you know about this place?” Harry shrugged enigmatically. “It is pretty gross,” Louis said as he squeezed into the small place on the ledge next to Harry.

“Yes, but you can smoke down here.”

“I noticed,” Louis said, gesturing at the haze of smoke that hung in the dank basement air. “Do you smoke?”

“When I’m this drunk, yes,” Harry said, pulling a box of Gitanes from his back pocket.

Louis had his lighter out already and he reached out to light Harry’s cigarette. When Harry looked up through his lowered lashes at Louis, Louis felt a surge of warmth in his chest and realized for the first time how drunk he actually was. He had had two margaritas and at least six shots, after all.

“French cigarettes, why am I surprised?”

“Do you want to try one?” Harry held out the pack. Louis took one and lit it.

“Did you live in Paris long?,” Louis asked.

“For the past eight years.”

“You moved there for work?”

Harry fidgeted with the filter of his cigarette. “Work, and to get married.” 

“I didn’t know that France had legalized gay marriage,” Louis said, taking a deep drag on his cigarette.

“I married a woman.” 

Louis sputtered, coughing as he expelled the smoke from his lungs. “You’re straight?”

“I’m…,” Harry trailed off, waving his cigarette in the air. 

“You’re bi,” Louis clarified.

Harry kept hemming and hawing. “I’m not really into definitions.”

Louis gave Harry a skeptical look. “Is that some closeted bullshit or are you really just a pansexual dynamo?”

“Oooh, pansexual dynamo! I like the sound of that! That’s my definition from now on.” 

“Harry, I’m being serious. I thought you were gay but you’re married to a woman?”

“I left France and my marriage is over. I didn’t think that this would be so important to you.”

Louis opened his mouth and shut it again. He could feel his cheeks reddening and he tried to look away from Harry. He was drunk and had been too blunt with Harry. Stupid, Louis chastised himself.

“Oh, I get it,” Harry said, elbowing Louis.

“No, stop,” Louis said, busying himself with sipping his drink and looking anywhere but at Harry.

“You’re really cute, did you know that?” Harry playfully bumped Louis’ shoulder. Louis bumped him back a little harder and found himself smiling at the ground despite himself. 

Harry reached out and cupped the back of Louis’ neck with his big hand. He pulled Louis closer and laid a wet kiss on the side of Louis’ neck.

“Oh, so now you like men,” Louis said in a joking tone. It took everything he had not to turn to Harry and kiss him square on the lips. 

Harry looked straight at Louis. “I like you,” Harry said quietly. 

Before Louis could respond, Liam and some of the pastry chefs burst around the corner of the alcove and pulled Harry to his feet. Louis watched helplessly as they dragged Harry back up the stairs to engage in some more chef bonding. Louis trailed the group back up into the bar and looked around the dim room for Niall, with no luck. 

Harry was in the middle of the scrum of chefs on the other side of the bar and Louis suddenly felt very drunk and alone. He squeezed through the crowd near the door and stepped outside into the cool air. He leaned up against the side of the building and lit another cigarette. He stood there smoking in silence, watching people streaming up and down Avenue A. He finished his cigarette and ground the butt beneath his shoe. As he pushed off of the wall to head home, Harry emerged from the bar. 

“Hey, are you leaving?,” Harry asked. His hair was glossy under the streetlight and his eyes were bright and sparkling. Louis wanted to stay with him and felt the urge to gather Harry up into his arms. But then Louis remembered that the whole staff of the restaurant was inside, and that this man was the new chef and Louis stepped back. He fumbled in his pocket for another cigarette and lit it for want of something to do.

“We were just getting to know each other,” Harry said. "There's still a lot you don't know about me." Harry stepped closer to Louis and poked his finger in the middle of Louis' chest. He was drunk and swaying a little, his voice thick and his tone brazen. 

"Right," Louis said, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth and handing the cigarette to Harry. "You're a mysterious French sex alien with a stormy past. You don't have to play that game with me."

"Who's playing a game?" Harry asked. He had stopped poking Louis and was slowly caressing his chest with his hand. "I'm very serious." Harry's voice was low and smooth. He bit his bottom lip and leaned into Louis. "Are you?"

Louis leaned forward and closed his eyes as Harry's lips touched his. I must have had way too much to drink, Louis thought as he felt the world spinning. Louis gave in to the kiss, which was soft and sweet. How did Harry taste like strawberries even after smoking a cigarette? Harry's tongue touched Louis' briefly before Harry pulled away. Louis' eyes snapped open and he stumbled backwards. 

"Mate, you're looking wrecked. I should get you home," Niall said as he took hold of Louis' arm and started pulling him toward a waiting cab.

"But wait, no Harry was just..." Louis trailed off. He saw the back of Harry’s head as Harry headed back into the bar. Harry turned, caught Louis’ eye, and winked.

"Louis, I think you're blacked out. C'mon mate." Niall dragged Louis into the street and pushed him headfirst into the cab. The city sped by in a blur and Louis was asleep before he knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Lit Lounge, one of the true early 2000s East Village gems. Extra RIP to the basement, one of the few places that escaped Mayor Bloomberg's smoking ban.  
> http://bedfordandbowery.com/2015/08/it-was-our-fantasy-the-story-of-lit-lounge-told-by-its-regulars/
> 
> And if you're interested in finding out where else in NYC is a good place to find a one night stand: http://www.complex.com/pop-culture/2013/02/10-nyc-bars-to-find-a-one-night-stand/lit-lounge-one-night-stand


	7. Chapter 7

Louis didn’t remember the trip home or getting into his apartment. Niall must have carried him up the stairs and put him in bed. He woke up at 4am with a start. Did Niall take off my pants? Louis tried to fall back asleep but was only able to doze lightly for about an hour. He put on his running clothes, packed his clothes for work, and set out for Columbus Circle in the dark. 

He stowed the bag with his work clothes in his office at the restaurant and headed for the southwest entrance to Central Park. Louis needed to sweat out some of the tequila that he had drunk the night before and maybe quiet his brain, which was swimming with thoughts of Harry. Harry's lips. Harry's touch.

Louis stretched for a minute by the entrance to the park and then set off running counterclockwise around the outer loop of the park. After about a mile, Louis passed the Boat House and had settled into a good rhythm. He chugged up Cat Hill and cruised down the other side by the back of the Met. By the time he passed the entrance at East 90th Street next to the Reservoir, he was at his top pace.

He had been running for about 15 minutes and the park was starting to get a busier. He headed along the drive toward the north end of the park where it would be a little quieter. He slowed in order to make it up the Harlem Hills but was back to a brisk pace for the rolling hills all down the western side of the loop. By the time he passed Tavern on the Green, weaved through packs of tourists headed for the Great Lawn, and cruised into Columbus Circle, he was drenched with sweat. He had run to exhaustion, and still all he could think about was Harry. 

What had happened last night – Harry's smile, his kiss – was amazing but Louis couldn't let his feelings get in the way of the work they had to do at the restaurant. Plus Harry was only passing through and it wouldn't do for Louis to get attached to anyone right now. He had had his heart broken enough in the past year and he didn't think he should put himself out there again. 

****

Louis padded through the dining room on the way to his office when he ran into Liam, who looked like death. 

"GOOD MORNING," Louis shouted, enjoying Liam's wince in response. 

Liam groaned and held his head. "How did you go running this morning? I had to throw up in a trash can on the subway platform."

"Really?"

"Twice."

"Payne, pull yourself together. We have a lot of work to do." Louis patted Liam on the shoulder and made his way to his office. He grabbed his bag and ducked into the small bathroom with the shower near his office. Within minutes, he was at his desk, looking in the small mirror he kept in his top desk drawer and fussing with his hair. It was wet and refusing to lay the way that he wanted it to. When he heard a knock on his closed office door, he dropped the mirror on the desk and banged his knee on the underside of the open drawer.

"Louis?," Harry called from outside the door. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be right there!," Louis called, surprised that his voice sounded so high and alarmed. He pushed back his fringe one last time, took a deep breath, and stood to open the door.

"Hi Harry," Louis said, trying to achieve a look of nonchalance, even though he felt butterflies at the sight of Harry, who looked too good after being up late drinking the night before. His hair looked damp and was twisted up in a scarf that was wrapped around his head. He was wearing his usual black skinny jeans and brown boots, but had paired it with a loud yellow silk shirt with parrots all over it. Just looking at that shirt must have made Liam sick. "How are you?"

"I'm great," Harry said with enthusiasm before dropping his eyes to the ground. "I wanted to see how you were doing after, um..." He looked up at Louis through his lashes and bit his bottom lip.

"I'm fine, just great," Louis said quickly, standing upright with his arms folded over his chest. He wasn't going to let a little drunken fooling around get in the way of all of the work they had to do to get the restaurant back open. "Did all of the kitchen staff make it in this morning?"

"Looking a little haggard, but they're here. They smell like a brewery though," Harry chuckled to himself.

Louis gave him a tight smile and moved to close the door to the office.

"Hey, are you sure you're ok?," Harry asked, wedging himself in the open doorway. 

Louis could smell Harry's vanilla scent and almost leaned into him, but pulled back when he remembered that he was supposed to be holding firm. "Yeah, just have a lot of paperwork to take care of here."

"Hmmm, ok, but have you had breakfast yet," Harry asked with a mischievous look on his face. Louis felt his resistance start to melt. Harry took his arm and pulled Louis through the hallway back to the kitchen. 

As they pushed through the double doors into the kitchen, Louis saw a group of sous chefs inflating taffy like a balloon. One of the balloons burst and a cloud scented air wafted into Louis' face. "Is that green apple?"

"Well, we started making fruit leather and then things got a little out of hand."

"Where are you keeping the Oompa Loompas?," Louis quipped, looking around for a laugh. A few of the sous chefs gave him dirty looks.

"Very funny, do you want breakfast or not?," Harry asked with a smirk.

"Sure, what do you have?"

"Liam, bring Louis here a Hot Potato, Cold Potato." Harry turned back to Louis. "You're going to love this."

Liam came over gently cradling something in his hands. He handed Louis a small wax cup. A pin pierced the side of the cup and was threaded with a small ball topped with what looked like a black truffle, a tiny piece of chive, and two small cubes.

"The liquid in the cup is a cold potato soup. The ball is a hot potato, and the cubes are butter and parmesan cheese. You're meant to drop the items on the pin into the soup and then take down the whole thing like a shot."

Louis raised his eyebrows at Harry, but complied. He pulled the pin out of the cup and the items dropped into the soup. He threw back the whole thing in one shot and was suddenly struck by the complexity of the flavors and textures. The soup was cold and smooth, the potato hot and buttery, the truffle earthy – one bite of this dish was more complex than anything Louis had tasted at Per Se in all his years there.

"How many more of these can I have?," Louis asked after a pause. 

Harry did a little hop and clapped his hands in delight. "You like it? Really?"

"It's magnificent. Really Harry."

Harry led Louis out of the kitchen. "I'm glad that I could show you a little of what we’re doing. That dish is just the beginning. I have a lot more planned." Harry and Louis had stopped at the doorway to Louis' office. Louis leaned against the doorway, still savoring the brief taste of Harry's cooking. Harry leaned his right hand on the wall by Louis' head, looking deep into Louis' eyes.

The restaurant was quiet. Louis felt very tired – good tired, like after a hard day of work – and he sighed. He didn't even mind how close Harry was standing to him, how Harry leaned into him and threaded his left arm around Louis' waist. Harry leaned into Louis and nuzzled into Louis' neck. "About last night-," he whispered.

"No, no, don't ruin this by talking," Louis whispered back.

"I just wanted to tell you that I wasn't just drunk," Harry kissed down Louis' neck to his collarbone.

"Harry, we shouldn’t be doing this. Don't make me change my mind," Louis growled and pulled Harry's hips closer into him. Harry kissed along Louis’ jawbone and slid his palms up Louis’ back. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” Harry mumbled. His lips found Louis’ and he kissed him lightly at first, pulling away to look at Louis to see if he should continue. Louis bit his lip and nodded quickly before Harry started kissing him deeper, his whole body pressing Louis up against the wall. Louis could feel the whole long length of Harry against him, his tongue hot in his mouth and his hands digging into his hips. Harry ground his hips against Louis. 

“Chef!” Liam shouted, and Harry and Louis sprung apart. Liam had just come around the corner holding a fire extinguisher. “We were testing the Hamachi skewers and – oh.” Liam stopped abruptly at the sight of Louis and Harry. Louis felt his cheeks go bright red.

“Is something on fire, Payne?” Harry prompted.

“Uhhhh…,” Liam looked down at the fire extinguisher, as if suddenly remembering where he was.

“Let’s go,” Harry hustled Liam down the hall, tossing an apologetic look over his shoulder at Louis. “Later,” he mouthed as he turned the corner toward the unmistakable smoke drifting from the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The edible green taffy balloon is real and from Grant Achatz's Chicago restaurant Alinea: http://www.businessinsider.com/edible-balloon-alinea-restaurant-chicago-three-michelin-stars-2016-5
> 
> So is hot potato, cold potato: http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/hot-potato-cold-potato


	8. Chapter 8

Louis didn’t see Harry for the rest of the afternoon, or much during the next few days. Harry was busy holding an intensive for the sous chefs – including instructing them on how to avoid setting the kitchen on fire – and Louis was busy walking through the outlines of the new menu with the front of the house staff. He spent a whole day on the revamped wine menu so that the servers could start talking about possible wine pairings with diners but knew that there would be more training once the full menu was finalized and rolled out. As it was, he had his hands full teaching the presentation and details of just the first few courses to the staff.

Every time he saw Harry, Louis tried to catch his eye. The closest he came was what he thought was Harry winking at him as he bustled by his office with the pastry chefs in tow. He was giving them a lesson on proving pastry and Louis could hear him saying “I used to be a baker, you know,” as he moved away quickly.

Louis had barely sat down in his office to check his email in days. The entire staff had been working longer hours than ever but still Harry was outworking all of them, practically living at the restaurant. Louis was certain that he’d not get to spend any alone time with him before the opening in two weeks.

Louis closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out under the desk. It felt good to sit down for a moment. Even though he really wanted to see Harry and to kiss him for more than a few seconds this time, he knew that it was good that he was too busy to think of Harry that much. The other night before he fell into an exhausted sleep, Louis had started thinking about Harry’s thighs in his tight jeans and his obscenely wet lips. Before he knew it, he was half hard. He slid his hand into his sweatpants and fondled his penis as he thought about how gorgeous Harry would look on his knees in front of him. This is ridiculous, Louis grumbled to himself, rolling over and trying to ignore his growing erection. It was just a kiss.

Now in his office, he found his mind straying to Harry again. Instead of focusing on the soft core porn developing in his mind, Louis opened his email and quickly began flicking through all of the messages. His eyes fell on an email from Simon about an internal posting for a dining room manager and several sous chef positions at a restaurant in California that Louis had never heard of but seemed to be a new Thomas Keller restaurant. As he read the restaurant description in the listing, Louis came across a sentence that made him sit upright in his chair: “Executive Chef Harry Styles will bring his eclectic flair and consummate elegance to this establishment in just a few weeks.”

“Oh Louis,” he said out loud to himself. “You are really stupid.”

“I’d disagree with that,” Harry said from the doorway.

Louis snapped off his monitor and quickly stood up. “Harry.”

“Louis.” Harry pulled a mock serious face and stood up straight, mimicking Louis’ suddenly formal mien. “I had a minute and I could finally come to see you.”

“Then you have to be moving on, yeah? Gotta keep on moving, can’t stay around here too long,” Louis heard himself babbling. _What is wrong with you? Why are you acting like such a prick to him?_

“Louis, are you ok?”

“I’m fine! Fine!,” Louis protested but he could hear the high, panicky note in his voice.

“I wanted to know if you would like to get a drink. I’ve been planning on getting out of here at a reasonable time for once and thought maybe you’d like to join me? Unwind? You seem a little tense.”

Louis let out a breath and tried to relax his shoulders. “Yeah, ok, where did you want to go?”

Harry smiled, all dimples and sparkling eyes. He stepped around the desk and slid his arm gently around Louis. “I have somewhere special in mind.”

******

“Niall’s? This is the someplace special?,” Louis said as Harry steered him down the sidewalk toward the Perfect Pint.

“Niall invited me.”

“When?”

“Last week at the work do. We were talking and he said that I should stop by.” Harry opened the door with a flourish and held it open for Louis. “He said that sometimes there is some very special entertainment,” Harry said with a wink.

Louis chuckled at Harry as they entered the bright, warm bar. The place was more crowded than the last time Louis had been there and he had to crane his head to see Niall behind the bar. Louis spotted Niall’s blonde hair and pulled Harry toward the far end of the bar. As the patrons parted, Louis could see who Niall was speaking to over the bar.

“Oh! Louis!,” Niall said with an alarmed look on his face. “I didn’t know you were coming by. Oh geez, and Harry’s here.” Niall looked like he wanted the ground to open up right where he was standing.

The next moment Louis understood the look on Niall’s face. Standing at the bar, wearing a worn leather biker jacket and holding a pint of Guinness, was Zayn.

“Hi, I’m Harry,” Harry burst through, either unaware of the tension in the air or purposely trying to diffuse it. He shook Zayn’s hand, even though Zayn didn’t seem to be aware of what was going on.

“‘m Zayn,” he mumbled, looking over at Louis from underneath the hair that was falling in his face. “Hi Lou.”

“Hi,” Louis breathed out. Zayn’s eyes were locked on him and he wasn’t sure what to do or where to look. Niall and Harry were greeting each other with enthusiasm, leaving Louis and Zayn standing awkwardly together with their hands buried in their pockets.

“How’ve you been, Lou?,” Zayn asked quietly.

“Since you left me suddenly? Mmm yeah, great,” Louis muttered and smiled at Zayn, trying to not let on that his chest felt tight just seeing Zayn in person. The last time Louis had seen Zayn was a Saturday night six months ago, when he had come home from work past midnight and found Zayn packing. Zayn, always a man of few words, mumbled something about LA and about feeling suffocated as he pulled on his leather jacket and picked up his duffel bags. All Louis could do was watch helplessly from the doorway as Zayn shuffled out of the building and out of his life. He had heard - through Niall, of course - that Zayn was living with a man named Paul in LA.

“Lou,” Zayn said with a hint of an apology in his voice.

Just then Niall came around the bar, stepping between Louis and Zayn. “So!,” he said with forced cheerfulness, “fancy a song, Louis?”

Louis wasn’t exactly in the mood to perform, but he agreed just to get out of the inevitable awkward conversation with Zayn, not to mention the fact that Harry was there too. _Oh god Harry, I forgot about him. He shouldn’t be here._

Niall went over to the small stage and started setting up the guitar and microphones. When Louis walked over, Zayn followed him. Louis saw Zayn lean over and say something in Niall’s ear. Niall looked shocked, but he handed over the guitar that he was holding to Zayn anyway.

“Thought I’d accompany you, a little like old times, eh?,” Zayn asked Louis, his voice low and scratchy. Louis didn’t want to do this with Zayn but Niall was already announcing the performance and people were turning to look at him. Other than throw a tantrum and refuse to perform, there wasn’t much else he could do but step behind the mic.

Zayn started strumming the guitar and Louis recognized the opening chords of a song that he had written early in his relationship with Zayn called “Home.” Louis felt tears start to well up in his eyes, and he blinked rapidly and looked up at the ceiling so no one would see his reaction to the song. He started signing softly, unsure of his voice and worried that it would crack.

_Make a little conversation, so long I've been waiting_

_To let go of myself and feel alive_

_So many nights I thought it over, told myself I kind of liked her_

_But there was something missing in her eyes._

Louis smiled at this point, remembering the night he and Zayn had spent drinking and trying to figure out a way to make the lyrics in the first verse rhyme without using the pronoun “her.” At the end of the night, they ended up drunk and singing the chorus over and over again, hysterical at the idea that they had ended up writing a song about the girls they had dated in high school before they came out.

Louis heard Niall let out a “whoop!” from the back of the room and continued.

_I was stumbling_

_Looking in the dark with an empty heart_

_But you say you feel the same_

_Could we ever be enough?_

_Baby we could be enough._

The crowd was really into the song, tapping their feet and swaying as Louis headed into the chorus. As the sang the first line of the chorus, Louis realized that Zayn was singing along with him. Louis turned to Zayn and kept eye contact with him as they harmonized.

_And it's alright_

_Calling out for somebody to hold tonight_

_When you're lost, I'll find a way, I'll be your light_

_You'll never feel like you're alone I'll make this feel like home._

Overwhelmed by the look in Zayn’s eyes, Louis stepped back from the mic and ran his hand through his hair. Zayn leaned forward and sang the second verse by himself.

_So hot that I couldn't take it, wanna wake up and see your face_

_And remember how good it was being here last night_

_Still high with a little feeling, I see the smile as it starts to creep in_

_It was there, I saw it in your eyes_

_I was stumbling_

_Looking in the dark with an empty heart_

_But you say you feel the same Could we ever be enough?_

_Baby we could be enough._

Louis couldn’t believe how good it felt to perform again in front of a big crowd, and how great his chemistry with Zayn still was. Their voices sounded amazing together and, as they sang, it was almost like the last 6 months had never happened. Louis joined Zayn for the chorus, oblivious to the rest of the people in the room.

_And it's alright_

_Calling out for somebody to hold tonight_

_When you're lost, I'll find a way, I'll be your light_

_You'll never feel like you're alone_

_I'll make this feel like home_

_I'll make this feel like home_

_Baby we could be enough_

_And it's alright_

_Calling out for somebody to hold tonight_

_When you're lost, I'll find a way, I'll be your light_

_You'll never feel like you're alone_

_I'll make this feel like home._

Their voices and the guitar fell silent and the crowd in the bar erupted. Louis reached out to shake Zayn’s hand, but Zayn pulled him into a tight embrace instead. Zayn brushed his lips against Louis’ ear and whispered, “Missed you Lou,” before he pulled away.

It was only after he stepped down off of the small stage and saw Niall standing behind the bar that Louis realized that Harry was nowhere to be seen.

Zayn came up behind him and slung his arm around Louis’ shoulders. “Let’s get out of here, Lou,” he said, biting his lip. Louis felt a strong surge of desire for Zayn, the familiar angles of Zayn’s body pressing into him. Louis’ longing for Zayn after so many (celibate) months of heartache and loneliness was the only thing that Louis could focus on at that moment. Niall tried to get Louis’ attention but Louis just ducked out of the bar with Zayn’s arm around his shoulder before Niall could say anything.

They walked back to the apartment - their apartment - in companionable silence. Zayn pulled out his old set of keys and let them into the apartment, smiling shyly at Louis as he did it. Zayn put down his shoulder bag and walked Louis backward to the couch. Louis fell back against the cushions, pulling Zayn down on top of him. Everything was familiar - Zayn’s smell, the sweet smokiness of his kiss, his delicate hands finding their way under Louis’ sweater. Zayn’s fingers brushed across Louis’ left nipple, sending pleasant shocks down to his groin. Zayn smiled into the kiss. “Your skin is so soft, Louis. I fucking love how soft.” Zayn caught Louis’ bottom lip between his teeth and gave a gentle nibble.

Louis was responding to every touch like he hadn’t been touched in forever. He arched his back, anything just to feel Zayn’s taut body against his. Zayn kissed him harder and Louis felt the growing length of Zayn as he ground his hips into him. Louis’ cock was beginning to strain against the zipper of his tight jeans. Louis gasped as Zayn slid his palm down to his crotch and began feeling Louis’ length.

“Come to the bedroom with me,” Zayn pleaded. He pulled Louis off of the couch and toward the back of the apartment. As they passed Zayn’s bag by the front door, Louis’ shoe caught on the strap and knocked it over. A fancy DSLR camera thunked out of the bag.

“What’s this? Your good camera?,” Louis said as he bent down to pick up the camera.

“Yeah,” Zayn shrugged, “I wanted to photograph the graffiti wall in the extra bedroom.”

“Oh,” Louis said as he stood up. “Why?”

Zayn was suddenly looking everywhere except at Louis. “I have a show in L.A. next month and I want to show the photos of this wall alongside another piece that I’m installing.”

“How long are you going to be in L.A. to do that? The restaurant is reopening soon and I’d love for you to come to the party after.” Louis tried to reach out to take Zayn’s hand, but Zayn pulled away from him.

“Lou, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” Zayn turned away.

“I thought you...Zayn, you’re here and we’re home together again and it’s like nothing’s changed,” Louis trailed off as he realized how dumb he had been. “Oh, I see. You’re not back.”

“Lou, I have a life there. I have Paul and a show and…,” Zayn was mumbling something about the little bungalow he shared with Paul, but Louis couldn’t hear anything that Zayn was saying.

“So what are you doing here?,” Louis was angry and his voice was rising. “You’re just here to take pictures of your art and maybe to get a blowjob and then what? Were you even going to stay over tonight?”

“My flight is in 3 hours. So.”

Louis kicked Zayn’s bag, lying forgotten on the hallway floor between them. “Get out.”

Zayn looked dumbfounded. Louis was almost surprised at himself but he realized that he wasn’t the same person that Zayn had known anymore. He wasn’t even the same person that he was a few months ago, when the pain of Zayn suddenly leaving him felt like it was going to swallow Louis whole. He had spent so many months denying, railing against, and then finally grieving the loss of Zayn and their life together. During that time, there were so many nights that Louis stayed up all night looking at old pictures of them, only to spend the next day at work going through the motions like a robot. He was finally feeling like himself again, like the fog was clearing, and he was damned if he was going to get pulled down by Zayn again.

“You heard me,” Louis stepped aside and motioned toward the door. “Get out!”

Zayn reluctantly scooped up his bag, camera, and leather jacket and flung the door open. He turned back to Louis as if he was to say something, but thought better of it and strode out quickly, slamming the door behind him.


	9. Chapter 9

“Fuck,” Louis muttered, straightening his sweater which was still askew from the aborted makeout session with Zayn. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he paced the apartment, picking up couch cushions that had been knocked to the floor. Six months of progress, six months of getting over the loss of Zayn was gone in one night. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Louis muttered, sitting down on the couch and putting his head in his hands.

Just then, there was a quiet knock on the door. Louis gave the door a long look, wondering if Zayn had come back and if Louis would be able to resist Zayn - even for the night - if it was him.

Louis opened the door to find Harry. “Hi,” Harry said quietly.

“Harry, oh god I’m so sorry,” Louis turned and slunk back to the couch, where sat with his head in his hands again.

“Things didn’t work out with your ex?”

Louis groaned and tried to hide his face in a pillow. “I’m so stupid,” he said into the pillow.

“I saw him on the stairs and he didn’t look too happy.”

“What did he say,” Louis looked up, alarmed.

“I believe it was ‘You can have him, mate’,” Harry tried to imitate Zayn’s Bradford accent but it came out sounding Australian. Louis giggled.

“I’m really sorry I left the bar with him.,” Louis said. Harry started to wave him away but Louis had to tell him. “The song, everything just had me thinking that things were how they used to be but...I’m not how I used to be. Things have changed a lot and,” Louis sighed, “it’s better this way. I’m ready to move on.”

Harry looked at Louis and smiled softly. “I wasn’t going to come over here because you left with him. But I talked to Niall-”

“Oh Jesus,” Louis rolled his eyes.

“-and he thinks that you like me. And that you’d see that Zayn wasn’t going to stick around.”

“Everyone could see it except for me!,” Louis threw up his hands. “Do you want to see what he came back here for? Come here.” Louis took Harry’s hand and led him to the extra bedroom. Louis flicked on the light so that Harry could see Zayn’s graffiti masterpiece.

“What am I looking at here?” Harry asked.

“Zayn is an,” Louis did sarcastic air quotes, “urban street artist.”

“This is...whew,” Harry ran his hair through his hair and pulled a face. “This is not good, Louis.”

“No.”

“We should get rid of it.”

“Wait, what?,” Louis asked in shock. Harry started pulling drop cloths off of Zayn’s paint supplies in the corner of the room. Louis stood sputtering as Harry popped the top off of a can of off-white wall paint.

“The graffiti. We should get rid of it. Don’t just stand there, grab a brush!,” Harry urged. He picked up a roller and tossed a wide brush at Louis. Harry poured out a generous amount of the paint into a tray and dipped the roller in the paint before aiming it at the graffiti wall.

“Stop, you can’t do that!,” Louis shouted.

Harry paused with the roller in midair. “Why not?”

“I,” Louis paused, “I don’t know.” He looked around the room at the last thing of Zayn’s left in his life. “It’s not like we’ll get in trouble, right?,” Louis said, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“No,” Harry chuckled, “and I think you should go first.”

Louis dipped his brush in the paint and, after a moment’s hesitation, painted a bright white stripe down the middle of Zayn’s “art.”

“Yeah!,” Harry cheered. He dipped the roller in the paint again and swung it to the wall to start covering up a section, flinging paint on the sleeve Louis’ shirt in the process.

“Hey, my shirt!”

Harry let out a big belly laugh over Louis’ indignant face. While Harry started rolling paint on the wall, Louis reached out and painted the side of Harry’s face, from his hairline down to his neck, with one stroke of his brush.

"Hey, my face!,” Harry shouted. He flicked the roller at Louis again, spattering his face with paint and luckily getting some paint on the actual wall.

“You _bitch_ ,” Louis hissed. He lunged at Harry with the paintbrush and smeared paint across the front of Harry’s soft gray t-shirt.

“Hey, this is Dries Van Noten!” Harry pulled Louis’ arm toward him in an attempt to wrestle the brush away from him.

“Oh?” Louis twisted away, grabbing for the roller. Louis and Harry wrestled back and forth, smearing each other with paint and giggling until they ended up in a pile on the floor. “Oh no, I got paint in your beautiful hair,” Louis teased.

“Don’t move, there’s some right here by your eye,” Harry pulled Louis closer to him and softly wiped the top of his right cheekbone. “I wonder if paint thinner is bad for your skin.”

Louis sighed. “Thank you for coming after me. You’re the one I wanted to be with tonight, not Zayn.” Harry leaned in to kiss Louis softly on the lips. Louis brushed his fingers against Harry’s cheek and tangled his fingers in the curls behind his neck. Harry’s kisses started slow but got deeper, until they were driving Louis crazy. Every time their lips pulled apart, Louis found himself gasping for air.

“Louis,” Harry whispered between kisses.

“Yes?”

“I’m really worried that you’re going to get paint on my jeans.” Louis laughed and pushed Harry over onto his back.

“I can just take them off and then we don’t have to worry about that?”

“Mmmhmm,” Harry murmured as Louis kissed him deeply, “tell me more about this no-pants plan of yours.”

Louis ran his hands over Harry’s chest, marveling at the taut muscle beneath his paper-thin t-shirt. At the bottom seam of Harry’s shirt, Louis let his fingers play over the soft skin of Harry’s stomach for a moment before unbuttoning the top button of Harry’s jeans. “How do I peel these off of you?"

Harry quickly kicked off his boots and then lifted his hips up. “Start from the top,” he said to Louis with a wink. Louis smirked as he slowly unzipped the fly of Harry’s jeans and then hooked his thumbs under the waistband. He shimmied Harry’s jeans down off of his hips and his long thighs. Louis stopped at the sight of Harry’s tiny black trunks and the semi-erect cock straining against the fabric.

Harry lifted his head up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just,” Louis exhaled and ran his hands up Harry’s pale thighs, “You just look so good.” Louis slid his fingers up under Harry’s trunks, tickling the sensitive skin right near Harry’s cock. Harry dropped his head back.

Louis pulled Harry’s jeans all of the way off and then slithered up Harry’s body to lay alongside him. He pushed his hand into Harry’s hair and pulled him into a tight embrace to kiss him. Louis’ legs intertwined with Harry’s as they kissed deeper and longer. Louis slid his hand down from Harry’s hair to his back, stopping to press against Harry’s lower back to pull him closer. Louis could feel the pressure of Harry’s now fully-erect cock through his jeans and he ground against Harry, who whimpered into his mouth.

Louis pulled away from Harry’s kiss, and Harry’s head fell against his shoulder. “Hmm, you like that,” Louis whispered into Harry’s ear, almost as if speaking too loudly would break the spell between them. Harry nodded and started nuzzling into Louis’ neck, sucking small kisses in the sensitive skin beneath his ear.

Louis pressed his palm against Harry’s crotch, lightly squeezing Harry’s cock through the fabric. Harry squirmed underneath him and bit softly into Louis’ shoulder. Slowly, slowly, Louis slid his hand under the waistband and cupped his hand around Harry’s cock. Harry bit harder into Louis’ shoulder as Louis started stroking up and down, slowly at first and then with more urgency. Harry frantically slid his trunks down off of his hips to give Louis freer access.

“Does that feel good, baby?,” Louis murmured into Harry’s hair. Harry looked up at Louis, his lips wet and parted. Louis looked down and locked eyes with him. Louis paused for a moment, lost in Harry’s green eyes which were burning with desire. Louis couldn’t believe that Harry was laying here next to him, naked and vulnerable and writhing under his touch.

“Please don’t stop,” Harry panted. Louis stroked faster, spurred on by Harry’s low moans. Louis felt Harry’s legs start to shake and his breathing become more erratic as Harry drew closer to coming. Harry was moaning Louis’ name and saying “please” over and over again before he finally shuddered to climax.

Louis laid back next to Harry, who was sprawled out, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. Louis smiled to himself. “What are you grinning about?,” Harry asked when he had caught his breath.

“I figured you’d be a moaner.”

“You haven’t heard anything yet,” Harry teased and pulled Louis into a sloppy kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Zayn girls :-p


	10. Chapter 10

Louis went to bed shortly after they cleaned up the spilled paint (and Harry’s cum) and Harry left. He couldn’t fall asleep for thinking of Harry’s eyes. Harry had looked at him with such open want, such honesty. Whatever guardedness that been between them when they had met, whatever caution that Harry had exhibited with him at work was gone and all that was left was Harry, heart open to him.

The next day at Per Se, Louis was in such a good mood that the wait staff was suspicious, asking him if he had gotten a raise or won the lottery. Louis just smiled serenely at them but deep down knew that the lightness in his heart was because of Harry and he didn’t care to hide it.

The reopening of Per Se was in less than two weeks, and the front of the house staff had almost learned the presentation of the entire menu. Louis had drilled the staff until they could move in time together with the complicated new platings - bird’s nests made out of caramelized turnip, slates bearing smoldering chunks of charcoal over which small pieces of fish roasted, and pillows piped with scented air out of which appetizing surprises would waft. The staff could explain all of the details of how the dishes were constructed, and had an entirely new vocabulary for Harry’s brand of culinary techniques. But they hadn’t done anything with the dessert presentation, so toward the end of the day Louis sought out Harry in the prep area of the kitchen to ask him about it.

“I’ll meet you in the main dining room when front of the house is done,” Harry told Louis with a fond smile.

“Looking forward to it,” Louis sing-songed back, drawing curious looks from Liam and the other sous chefs gathered around a bubbling vat of some clear viscous liquid behind Harry. Harry made a jokey grimace face and Louis scooted out of the kitchen before he did anything more embarrassing.

An hour later, Louis was in his office filing away some paperwork when Harry came sauntering in and pulled the door shut behind him.

“Aren’t we doing dessert?,” Louis asked, looking up.

Harry had perched on the front edge of Louis’ desk and was swinging his long legs back and forth. He was fiddling with something in this hands. “Yes, in a minute.”

Louis stood up from behind the desk and went over to stand in front of Harry. Harry spread his knees apart so Louis could stand close to him, and he handed Louis a test tube.

“What is this?” Louis holding the test tube up to the light so he could see the layers of red, white, and pink inside.

“Bubblegum,” Harry smirked.

Louis turned the test tube upside down but the ingredients wouldn’t budge. “How do I...?”

Harry licked his lips and smirked. “You put your lips around it and suck.”

Louis tried to hand the test tube back to Harry. “Are you spending your valuable time in the kitchen making sexually suggestive desserts now?”

Harry hooked his fingers in Louis’ belt loops and pulled him closer. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” Harry slipped his hands under the hem of Louis’s shirt and slid the shirt up over Louis’s stomach. “I keep making things in the shape of dicks and I think Liam knows what’s going on.” Louis chuckled and felt Harry nuzzling the skin at the center of his chest before grazing his lips across Louis’ right nipple.

“He’ll definitely know something’s up if we stay in here with the door shut too long.”

Harry started nibbling on Louis’ other nipple. “I sent him home. I sent the whole kitchen staff home.” Harry’s hands found their way to squeeze Louis’ ass and Louis could feel himself starting to get hard. He had tried to put all thoughts of Harry out of his head so the could focus at work but now Harry was pressed up against him and he felt voracious for him.

Harry stood up and took the test tube from Louis’ hands. “Here,” he held it up to Louis’ lips, “suck.” Louis put his mouth around the test tube, maintaining eye contact with Harry and sucked hard. The contents of the test tube came shooting out into his mouth in a single burst.

Louis sputtered and laughed. “What was that? It takes just like bubblegum.”

“It’s long pepper, hibiscus, and creme fraiche. And your ability to swallow that in one go is a good sign for me,” Harry said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"You’re too much,” Louis scoffed, pushing Harry gently away and then pulling him back toward him so they could kiss.

“Are you ready for dessert now?”

“Only if dessert is you,” Louis murmured into Harry’s neck.

“Not today.” Harry pulled away and led Louis out into the dining room. At the center of the dining room, one of the tables had been covered with a silicone sheet. _That’s why we ordered those_ , Louis thought to himself. There were bowls of ingredients and kitchen tools at the corners of the table.

“Your table sir,” Harry said as he pulled out a chair for Louis. Louis sat and watched quietly as Harry went to work.

Harry moved gracefully around the table, spooning out ingredients and spreading sauces in an abstract pattern onto the silicone sheet. He poured an inch of creamy liquid into three cylinders.

As he worked, he named each ingredient, starting with the chocolate peanut powder and peanut nougat, then the blueberries poached in red wine, and then the sauces - blueberry, white chocolate, and milk chocolate.

“What is this dessert? How am I going to get the front of the house staff to do this?”

Harry pulled a large cube of what looked like brown styrofoam out of a Tupperware. “I’m going to do it.” Harry dropped the cube on the table, where it shattered into pieces which smoked like dry ice. “Frozen chocolate mousse.”

“What? You’re going to do it? For every table?”

“Yes, it’s part of the experience. This is freeze-dried blueberry,” Harry said as he shattered a piece of what looked like purple brittle over the table. “And microgreen basil.” Harry scattered the microgreens with a pair of tweezers. Finally, he picked up the cylinders, leaving the cream solidified in discs on the table. He sprinkled each with brown sugar and flambeed them with a small creme brulee torch.

“Ta-da!” Harry stood up and whirled around, but his face fell when he saw the blank look at Louis’ face. “You don’t look convinced.”

Louis threw up his hands. “I can’t believe that you’re going to do this for every table.”

“For $280 per diner, without wine, I should be willing to dance on the table,” Harry quipped as he picked up a piece of frozen chocolate mousse. “Here, let me show you.” Harry dragged the mousse through a series of white chocolate sauce dots and into one of the piles of peanut chocolate powder and brought it up to Louis’ mouth.

Louis opened his mouth and let Harry place the bite of dessert into his mouth. As Louis chewed, Harry stood back and crossed his arms. “Well?”

“The frozen mousse, it’s amazing and rich. And the chocolate and peanut flavor are so complex, and that is the best white chocolate I’ve ever had.”

“D’you want some more?” Harry smiled.

“ _Please_.”

“Hmm, I like it when you beg.” Harry picked up a piece of freeze dried blueberry and started scooping ingredients up off of the table and swooping them toward Louis’ mouth. Louis made appreciative noises and Harry kept feeding him bites of dessert.

“Can I have some more of that milk chocolate sauce?” Louis asked.

Harry bit his lower lip and dragged two fingers through the squares of milk chocolate sauce pooled on the table. He held them a few inches in front of Louis’ face, so Louis had to crane forward to take them into his mouth. He sucked gently on Harry’s fingers for longer than was necessary, swirling his tongue around the fingers and making direct eye contact with Harry. Harry pulled his fingers out of Louis’ mouth with a pop.

“More?”

“Of you? Please,” Louis said. He pulled Harry down to his knees in front of him for a kiss. Harry slid his large hands up Louis’ thighs, squeezing and massaging the muscles under Louis’ tight black pants. Harry kissed Louis’ neck and started biting gently down his chest.

“Louis,” Harry whispered into Louis’ shirt, “tell me what you want.”

Louis stammered for a moment.

“Louis,” Harry looked up a Louis with hooded eyes and licked his lips, “tell me.”

“Your mouth,” Louis said, blushing.

“Hmm?,” Harry prompted him, “What did you say?” Harry was nibbling on the fly of Louis’ jeans and smiling to himself.

“Your wet mouth,” Louis threaded his hand into Harry’s hair and pulled his head up firmly, “I want your mouth.” Harry looked delighted at Louis’ forcefulness. Harry used his teeth to pop open the button of Louis’ jeans and pull down the zipper. “You little slut,” Louis giggled, pulling Harry’s hair again. Harry worked Louis’ jeans and briefs off of his hips and took Louis cock in his hand.

“Mate, the rings,” Louis nudged Harry, who was wearing an elaborate silver and turquoise ring on each finger ( _How does he cook with those on?_ , Louis wondered briefly). Harry slipped the rings off and dropped them on the carpet around him. He took Louis’ cock back in hand and started smearing a drip of precum over the head. Louis tried to kiss Harry but Harry pushed him back into the chair so Louis could watch.

Harry took his time over Louis. He had the same focus as Louis had seen when he was creating in the kitchen or presenting the dessert. He started lapping gently up both sides of Louis’ cock, drawing small moans out of Louis, then sucking gently on the sensitive skin around the base. By the time Harry swirled his tongue around the head, Louis was lifting his hips up off the chair, trying to get Harry to take down his whole length. Harry lifted his head and shook his head at Louis. “You’re impatient.”

“Harry,” Louis whined as Harry took his wet cock back in his hand and slowly stroked it. “Harry, please.” Harry finally took pity on Louis and went down on Louis’ cock until it hit the back of his throat. He flicked his eyes up to see Louis’ with his head thrown back. Harry slid his lips up and down Louis’s length, using his tongue to caress the underside of Louis’s cock as he went.

Louis felt his heart beating faster as Harry worked faster, drawing him closer to his climax. He was panting loudly in time with Harry’s movements. Louis pressed the back of Harry’s head down gently, then harder, until he heard Harry gagging and felt him dripping saliva down his balls. “Do you like that Harry, do you,” Louis panted. Harry moaned in approval, sending a jolt down Louis’s cock. “Do you want me to come in your mouth Harry,” Louis moaned as he felt his body turning hot and liquid. Harry took Louis the deepest this time, and Louis came with a shout down his throat.

When Harry had swallowed him all down and sat back on his heels, Louis was finally able to lift his head up off of the back of the chair. “Jesus Christ, Harold,” he leaned forward and took Harry’s face in his hands. “I don’t even want to know where you learned how to do that.” Harry giggled and Louis kissed him softly, lingering to bite Harry’s plump, red bottom lip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to try to make the bubble gum test tube from Alinea, be my guest: http://www.allenhemberger.com/alinea/2012/02/bubble-gum-long-pepper-hibiscus-creme-fraiche/
> 
> Here's a look at Grant Achatz setting up the dessert on the table at Alinea: https://youtu.be/qofsdSMuGbg


	11. Chapter 11

The next day, Louis was in his office confirming reservations and seating times for the reopening night, now just a week away. Although he had had to cancel several weeks worth of reservations when they shut down, Per Se’s regulator customers were so excited about the dynamic new chef that they were all clamoring to get back in. Harry’s reputation was enough to keep excitement and attention about the restaurant’s reopening high among critics when usually a revamp of a restaurant would signal that a closing was on the horizon.

Louis stood up from his desk and stretched his arms above his head. He’d been at it for four hours and could use a break. He headed back to the kitchen to see if he could see Harry for a quick minute and maybe grab a snack (or grab Harry).

The kitchen was a hive of activity, as usual, but there was an extra manic edge to it. The sauciers were whipping their whisks so fast that they were practically a blur, and the prep cooks were chopping like their lives depend on it.

Liam slid to a halt in front of Louis.. “Hey Louis, no time to talk, gotta test these gelatins a dozen more times,” and charged headfirst into the open door of the walk-in freezer. The door swung shut behind and there was a massive clattering noise from inside. No one in the kitchen even looked up.

“Hey sugar,” Harry purred in Louis’ ear as he passed behind him. Louis wasn’t sure, but he thought Harry pinched his butt on the way past.

“Hi, how’s it going in here today?”

“Great, we’ve really got a lock on most everything. Just refining, especially those GELATINS, RIGHT PAYNE,” Harry shouted toward the door of the walk-in. There was a yelp from inside and another, louder clattering sound.

“Ok, well it seems like you have everything under control,” Louis muttered as Liam emerged from the walk-in, red-faced and covered in a purple goo.

“I was thinking of taking a trip upstate for the day tomorrow. I’m sourcing one last vendor. Are you interested in taking a drive with me, or are you too busy?” Harry pulled a sad puppy dog face. Behind him, the entire kitchen staff was staring at Louis with pleading eyes. Liam was waving his arms behind Harry’s back, looking like he was trying to usher a troublesome patron out of the door.

“Sure, give these guys a rest tomorrow too,” Louis said agreeably.

“Oh no,” Harry chuckled, steering Louis toward the door, “no days off for these guys.”

****

The next day, Harry pulled up in front of Louis’s apartment in a cherry-red Mazda Miata. Louis was waiting on the steps of the building.

“Is this your car?” Louis asked incredulously. He had to shield his eyes in the bright early afternoon sun.

“It’s a rental!,” Harry bellowed.

Louis climbed into the front seat next to Harry, who was wearing mirrored shades and a loud Hawaiian print shirt. “Are we going to Hawaii or Westchester County?”

“You never know! Be open to every possibility, Louis,” Harry said and winked.

****

It was a beautiful morning for a drive. Louis spent most of the drive sneaking looks at Harry, his hair flowing, singing along with a Spice Girls CD that he seemed to have brought along just for the drive. At one point, while Louis was looking out his window at a farm whizzing past along the highway, Harry gently took his hand.

They pulled off of the Saw Mill River Parkway in Tarrytown and, after a few turns, pulled up to the gate of Blue Hill at Stone Barns.

“Dan Barber was seated next to me at the James Beard Awards ceremony a few years ago and we got friendly,” Harry said as he put the car into park in front of the first of a series of barns stretched out along the dirt road that ran through the expansive farm. “He’s got quite an operation here at Stone Barns and I was hoping to get access to his grain supply.”

“Grain?”

“I’ll let him tell you about it,” Harry said.

At the sound of the car doors slamming, a large man in denim overalls came loping out of the barn door. “Harry,” he shouted, spreading his arms and wrapping Harry into a bear hug.

“Dan, it’s so good to see you,” Harry said into Dan’s chest. Harry was tall but Harry seemed tiny in comparison against Dan’s broad chest. “This is my friend Louis,” Harry said, taking Louis’s hand and smiling broadly. Louis blushed when he saw Dan’s surprised reaction.

“Nice to meet you,” Louis said, “Harry was just telling me about your grain project.”

“Oh yes!,” Dan clapped his hands together. “You’re just in time to smell some of the emmer harvest. This is the nuttiest one yet!”

Louis gave Harry a questioning look. Harry nodded sagely, threw his arm around Louis’ shoulders, and led him into the barn behind Dan.

****

After touring the barn and learning more than Louis thought there was to know about strains of heirloom wheat, Dan led them toward the restaurant. They made their way through a series of structures that were part greenhouse, part lab, sprouting herbs and vegetables that Louis couldn’t even name. They strolled past the areas where the chickens lived and roamed, and the sheep, and the cows, each with more space for wandering and grazing than any feed animals that Louis had ever seen. (The house where the chickens spent cold evenings was bigger and nicer than Louis’ first New York apartment.) Finally, they made their way past the cheese caves, where Louis could smell all sorts of cheeses aging in the dank darkness.

Dan and Harry were up ahead, discussing the possibility of Blue Hill supplying Per Se with the famous Barber II 200% wheat for baking. Louis lingered for a moment to look out over the fields, bathed in soft late afternoon light. His heart felt lighter than it had in months and he felt his whole body humming with Harry’s energy. He could still feel Harry’s fingertips on his back and shoulders and waist, all of the places that Harry touched him quietly as they followed Dan around the farm.

When they reached the restaurant, Dan led them to a quiet table in the corner. Louis marveled at the beautiful main dining room, a converted dairy barn that had herbs and bleached bones hanging from the vaulted ceiling.

Their meal started slowly, with Dan bringing out each individual course, some nothing more than a bite of a fresh vegetable impaled on a miniature farm implement. Dan quietly presented each course and then melted away from the table, leaving Harry and Louis to feed each other bites and share quiet yummy sounds. The sommelier kept their glasses filled with an interesting variety of wines to go with what they were eating, and before Louis knew it, he was flushed and warm from the wine.

And from Harry, who had scooted his chair close to Louis at the start of the meal and had one hand on him the entire time - caressing up and down Louis’s thigh, rubbing the back of his neck, intertwining their hands and kissing Louis’s fingers. Louis felt drunk on Harry’s eyes and way that Harry was looking at him as if he was the next course.

Partway through the meal, Dan led them out to stretch their legs and see the manure shed. Louis was skeptical of seeing a shed full of manure and compost after having eaten so much food (and who knew how many courses to go), but the interior of the shed smelled sweet and fresh. Dan explained that the compost generates heat, which the restaurant uses to slow cook sealed packets of vegetables and also to power a circulator bath used to poach eggs.

Harry and Louis lingered on their way back inside, pausing to look up at the stars that were just coming out in the clear night sky. Harry slipped his hand into the back pocket of Louis’s black jeans and squeezed. When Louis yelped, Harry pulled Louis closer and whispered hot in his ear, “You look so good tonight.”

“We’re still eating, you nympho,” Louis scolded. “I think next we’re supposed to have a lamb chop from a lamb that we befriended earlier today.” Harry giggled and draped himself over Louis as they sauntered back toward the restaurant.

Back at the table, the courses continued, as did the wine. Harry started telling Louis stories from culinary school and from the first restaurants he worked in in London.

“And then you moved to Paris?,” Louis asked.

“I met Ines in London when I was 19 and we got married a month after we met. I think we were both so impatient to have an adventure and to do something different, break away from our parents. We thought it was romantic.”

“Were your parents so bad?”

“No, my parents were great. Married 30 years. Nice house. Quiet life. But when I was 19, I wanted to see the world and their life seemed so small. And Ines. She comes from an old Parisian family - her grandfather is related to someone in Napoleon’s cabinet or something - and they had an expectation that she would marry a banker who went to the right schools and that she’d have the perfect society family. So I think I was her rebellion.”

“That’s not a great basis for a relationship.”

“No,” Harry smiled sadly to himself. “That plus a thousand other reasons, that’s why I’m here with you now.”

“I’m so glad that you are,” Louis said and kissed Harry. Harry put his arms around Louis and pulled him closer, kissing him deeper, oblivious to the other diners in the restaurant.

Dan coughed quietly behind them. “Harry, I wanted to talk to you about driving back to the city tonight."

“Hmm?,” Harry said, pulling away from Louis’s mouth. “What time is it?”

“10:30. And you’ve both had a lot of wine. Why don’t you stay at the carriage house here on the property?”

“I didn’t realize that it was that late.”

“This dinner’s been 5 fucking hours,” Louis grumbled as Harry pulled him close again.

“Also,” Dan continued, looking uncomfortable, “if I don’t get you guys out of here, we may have a public exposure situation here in the dining room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many apologies to Dan Barber and all of the nice people at Blue Hill at Stone Barns, which you should visit!


	12. Chapter 12

Dan corralled a rather rowdy Harry and Louis into the backseat of his car and drove them a short distance down a bumpy dirt road to the carriage house on the property. Perhaps this was a mistake, as he then had to extract them from the back seat (and each other) in order to drop them off and get back to the restaurant. 

Once Dan had promised to have one of the staff drop off their car later that night and Harry had thanked him profusely for his hospitality, Harry and Louis stumbled into the carriage house. It had a rustic open plan living room and kitchen with a sleeping loft up a steep flight of wooden steps. 

“Do you want some water?,” Harry asked, heading for the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge door, handed Louis a bottle of water, and took one for himself. Louis was tipsy but knew enough that he should hydrate so that he didn’t wake up the next day with a headache. He gulped down the water and tried not to think of what came next. 

Alone. 

All night.

With Harry.

Louis had been alone with Harry before - he was dying to be alone with him! - but, as the idea of the whole night in the carriage house stretched out before him, Louis felt butterflies in his stomach. His feelings for Harry were so overwhelming that he felt like he was going to burst even before Harry had a chance to touch him.

Louis was fidgeting with the cap on his water bottle when he felt Harry’s warm hands take the bottle from him. Harry loomed tall in front of him with a mischievous smile on his flushed face. Harry slowly backed him up against the kitchen island and started nuzzling at Louis’s neck. Louis let out a happy sigh as Harry’s kisses turned into bites along his neck and up to his ear. 

Harry slid his leg between Louis’s and pressed forward, creating gentle friction on Louis’s crotch. Louis let out a small moan, causing Harry to smile wolfishly. Harry pressed his leg against Louis again, clearly enjoying the small gasp that escaped from Louis’s parted lips when he did. 

They were kissing, deeper and longer, and Harry’s hands were roaming all over Louis, teasing the sensitive skin near the waistband of his pants and trailing lightly over his back. Louis was covered in goosebumps and getting harder by the minute.

“Harry,” Louis murmured, pulling away from Harry reluctantly, “take me upstairs.”

Pulling Louis along with him, Harry started toward the stairs. He tried to climb up them backward so he could keep kissing Louis, but tripped on the first step and stumbled back down onto the landing. Harry and Louis ended up giggling and clutching each other at the bottom of the stairs before Louis pulled away to take Harry’s hand and led him up.

In the center of the loft was a king-sized bed with an elaborate headboard that looked like it was made of antlers. The bed was bathed in moonlight from the skylights above. Louis led Harry to the foot of the bed and paused there a moment, pressing his forehead against Harry’s, listening to them breathe together. Louis placed his hand over Harry’s heart and could feel it beating strong in his chest. 

“Louis,” Harry whispered, “I need to tell you-”

“Shhh,” Louis cut him off. “No talking.” Louis kissed Harry quiet and pulled him down onto the bed next to him. He slowly started undressing Harry, pausing only when a small packet of lube and a condom fell out of the pocket of the jeans that he just pulled off of Harry. 

Harry smiled and shrugged. “I like to be prepared!”

Louis pinned the now-naked Harry to the bed underneath him and kissed him deeply, relishing the feeling of Harry arching his body up to make contact with Louis. Louis put a hand on Harry’s chest and pushed him back down on the bed. “Be patient,” he whispered. As Louis took his own shirt off, he could see that Harry’s hand was twitching toward his cock, which was fully erect, but Louis shook his head no. 

“Are you going to be good for me, Harry?,” Louis said as he pushed Harry back up the bed so his head was on a pillow. Harry nodded quickly, then gasped sharply as Louis took his cock in his hand. “Are you going to do what I say?” Harry was whimpering for Louis to start moving his hand. Instead, Louis let go of Harry and flipped him over onto his stomach. 

Louis started at Harry’s neck, right below his curls, and licked and kissed his way down Harry’s back to the curve of his ass. Harry slid his legs apart as Louis massaged his ass cheeks, sensing that Louis intended to eat him out before he fucked him. 

“Is that what you want?,” Louis said as he licked his finger and touched Harry’s hole. Harry’s face was buried in the pillow but he pushed back, trying for more contact with Louis’s wet finger. “Or do you want my tongue?” Before Harry could respond, Louis licked Harry’s hole and started sliding his tongue into the tight opening. Harry groaned and ground his pelvis against the bed as Louis fucked deeper and faster with his tongue. 

After pausing briefly to undress, Louis slid back up Harry’s body and laid facing him. “Harry,” he said quietly, “tell me that you want me.” 

Harry was breathing heavily and his eyes were dazed with lust. He kissed Louis deeply and took Louis’s cock in his hand. Harry was stroking Louis slowly while swirling his tongue in Louis’s mouth. He pulled back and bit his lip. He looked shy in the moonlight and Louis could see him blush when he said, “I want you, please Louis, please fuck me.” 

Louis kissed Harry and then turned away to put on the condom and apply a liberal amount of lube to his cock and fingers. Harry turned over onto his back and put his legs in the air so that Louis had free access to his hole. Louis pressed two fingers into Harry slowly, enjoying the way that Harry’s eyes rolled back as he started fucking his fingers in and out, and then adding another finger. He stretched Harry until Harry was writhing below him and his own cock was throbbing. 

“Louis, please,” Harry begged. His chest was slick with sweat and his lips were cherry red from being bitten. His legs were spread wide and looked ready to be fucked. Louis leaned forward to kiss him as he withdrew his fingers, and Harry whimpered into his mouth. 

“Such a hungry boy,” Louis chided as he lined up his cock and pushed into Harry in one smooth movement. Louis stayed still for a moment, watching beautiful Harry beneath him, his hair spread out on the pillow and his eyes wild. Harry was clutching at the sheets, back arched. Louis started fucking Harry slowly, feeling his orgasm already building. 

“Oh my god Harry, you feel fucking amazing.” Harry looked too good, was squeezing Louis so tightly as Louis slid in and out of his hole. Harry’s cock was dripping precum onto Harry’s stomach and Louis knew that Harry would come immediately if he touched him. 

“Louis, oh god Louis,” Harry moaned, “please let me come, oh my god please.” 

“I’m so close, so close baby,” Louis panted.

“Oh fuck, I love you so much Louis, oh my god, I love you” Harry’s voice was hoarse and he was sobbing, overcome with sensation. Louis knew that the feeling of Harry coming around him, the sight of his orgasm would finish him, so he wrapped his hand around Harry’s cock. 

Harry let out a high pitched yell and came hard all over his chest. Louis pumped a few more times into Harry as Harry spasmed around his cock and then Louis came. As his orgasm subsided and his cock started to soften, he fucked into Harry’s now-sensitive hole one more time, reluctant to pull out completely.

Louis collapsed onto the bed beside Harry, whose legs were still shaking. Harry started to shiver.

“Are you ok?,” Louis asked, pulling Harry close.

“That was so intense,” Harry murmured. “You’re so amazing. I love you.”

Louis kissed Harry softly on the lips. He pulled a quilt from the bottom of the bed over them and cuddled into Harry, who was already close to sleep. “I love you too.”


	13. Chapter 13

Louis woke up buried underneath the comforter. He threw the comforter off and saw Harry, silhouetted against the picture window in the bedroom, just ending a phone call.

“We have to go,” Harry said, his voice clipped. He started gathering up his clothes, which were strewn around the room.

“Harry,” Louis said right before Harry flung Louis’s boxer briefs at him, “calm down.”

“Don’t-,” Harry started, taking a deep breath. “I am calm. We just have to leave now.”

“Harry!,” Louis followed Harry down from the loft and out the front door of the carriage house, pulling his pants on as he went. “Harry, wait!”

“It’s my daughter. She’s hurt and in the hospital and we have to leave.” Harry was already climbing into the car.

“Your...wait, your daughter? What daughter?” Louis was standing barefoot in the driveway, holding his shoes and his cellphone. He briefly wondered what else he was leaving behind in the carriage house, besides his socks and his hazy memories of the night before.

“Louis, get in the car.” Harry was about to pull away, with or without him, so Louis got in the car even though he had a lot of unanswered questions.

Harry drove well above the speed limit the entire way back, until they hit traffic on Route 9 South approaching the city. Harry impatiently drummed on the steering wheel, edging the car forward in the bumper-to-bumper traffic.

“Harry, can you just please explain to me what’s going on?” Louis asked gently after 30 minutes of silence from Harry. “I didn’t know that you had a daughter.”

“You never asked,” Harry said. His words felt like a slap to Louis. He never asked? Harry had mentioned that he had been married and that his marriage was over, but he had never mentioned a daughter. Now they were speeding across Manhattan on 72nd Street, running practically every light, toward this daughter who was at NY Presbyterian Hospital.

Harry brought the car to an abrupt stop in the fire lane in front of the hospital. He hopped over the door and ran toward the entrance, where he stopped in front of a tall woman wearing over-sized sunglasses and a Burberry trench coat. The woman, who was smoking a thin cigarette, told him something and pointed inside. Harry punched through the doors and disappeared inside.

Louis got out of the car and made to follow Harry inside. The tall woman stepped in front of him.

“Excuse me, where do you think you are going?,” the woman asked in French-accented English.

“I’m going inside. Who are you?” Louis tried to elbow past the woman but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“I’m Harry’s wife Ines. And you are?”

“You mean his ex-wife.”

_“Non._ His wife. And you are?”

“I’m Louis, I’m Harry’s-,” Louis stopped, unsure of how to label things at that moment.

“Ah, you are the latest.”

“Excuse me?”

Ines clicked her tongue sarcastically. “Oh, did you think that you were special?”

Louis took a step back, reeling. “I don’t think you understand. Harry-”

“He loves you? Oh no, it’s so sad, please tell me that you did not believe him.”

“Listen, you’ve got it all wrong-”

“Did he cook for you? Tell you his secrets?”

Louis stared at her with his mouth hanging open.

“You must know that you’re not the first of Harry’s handsome young men, and you certainly won’t be the last.”

Louis watched in horror as Ines took a calm drag on her cigarette, before dropping the butt on the ground and stamping it out with her high-heeled suede bootie.

“Louis?,” the woman said, assessing him through narrowed eyes.

“Yeah.” Louis was dazed and having trouble focusing on what was happening. The light was too bright and his head suddenly hurt very badly. He could still smell Harry on his skin. But now Harry - the Harry he thought he knew - seemed like nothing but a stranger.

“Louis dear, your car is being towed.”


	14. Chapter 14

Harry didn’t come into the restaurant that day, not that Louis would have been able to look at him. He snuck into the bathroom around noon and started crying, thinking about how much he believed Harry when he said that he loved him. He spent the rest of the afternoon in a fury, criticizing every move the wait staff made and generally making everyone around him as miserable as he felt.

“Are you ok Louis?,” Liam asked. He had come into Louis’s office and had overheard the tail end of Louis’s conversation with a vendor. (It was not a friendly conversation on Louis’s end.) “Where’s Harry?”

Louis shook his head and laughed bitterly. “Hell if I know.”

“What happened? I thought you were away upstate?”

“We were, and now we’re not. That’s over. So.” Louis was frantically rearranging the papers on top of his desk so the didn’t have to look Liam in the eye or give any more explanation.

“Do you want to get out of here? Talk about it?” Liam, bless him, looked so wounded on Louis’s behalf.

“No, I’m going home. Need to get some sleep. Clear my head.”

Louis wandered home like a zombie, hungover and aching with the thought of Harry, the loss of what he thought was his. He took a long hot shower and tried to scrub away Harry’s vanilla tobacco smell, but the scent wouldn’t go away. He fell into a fitful sleep for a few hours before waking at 5am, unable to fall back asleep.

He went to the restaurant early to see if he could make any progress toward the reopening. _The sooner this happens, the sooner he’ll be gone_ , he thought to himself as he marched into the Time Warner Center.

He stood alone in the darkened dining room and looked out at the early morning traffic of mostly taxis streaming through Columbus Circle. He tried not to think of the night in the carriage house but he still got goosebumps when he remembered Harry’s white-hot touch on his skin and the dark burn of Harry’s eyes. Louis was so bereft about how everything had fallen apart but he couldn’t help recalling the physical memory of Harry, his hair, his scent-

“Louis?” Harry was standing in the doorway of the dining room.

Louis jumped. “Why did you sneak up on me?”

Harry smiled sadly at him. “You looked so calm. I didn’t want to disturb you. I...I didn’t know if you wanted to see me.”

“I don’t,” Louis huffed and made for his office. As he slammed the door shut behind him, he heard Harry calling his name.

Louis stood with his back up against the door, eyes closed, taking deep breaths. His hands were shaking and he was trying to block out the effect of seeing Harry. _This will be much easier after he’s gone_ , Louis thought and collapsed into his chair. But then Louis thought of coming to Per Se every day, with Harry’s food and his energy lingering like a ghost. The thought of going back to his normal life - lonely nights in his empty apartment, sad pints with Niall, his workday routine - felt unbearably sad.

After sulking for about an hour, Louis emerged from his office to do some work with the front of the house staff on last minute changes to the menu. Several of the waitstaff were having trouble with the dish involving a Japanese charcoal called binchotan, over which wagyu beef and parsnip were charred tableside. Liam had come out of the kitchen to show the staff how to slice the charred sides from the rectangles of parsnip and extract the wagyu from its charcoal shell before serving. In all of the test runs thus far, at least one of the servers had lit their sleeve on fire in the process of serving the beef.

“Ok, let’s run it again.” Louis said once they had done it successfully three times.

“Louis, I think they have it,” Liam said gently.

“Liam, please, I know when they have it and they don’t,” Louis snapped.

“Louis, I think you’re a touch sensitive because of what’s happened with you-know-who,” Liam said in that infuriatingly calm, don’t-make-any-sudden-moves tone.

 _“Liam,_ I’m sure that I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Louis said tightly.

“Why don’t we just have a word in your office?,” Liam asked through a tight smile.

Louis grimaced back at him. Louis led Liam out of the dining room and then marched him down the hallway to his office. Louis heard the waitstaff whispering about him and Harry when he shut the door.

Before Louis could say anything, Liam grabbed him by the shirtfront. “Louis, you have to do something. Harry is torturing us.” Liam’s eyes were wild. “I thought it was bad when he was acting all lovey-dovey. Now he’s so sad that he’s making all the vegetables black with squid ink. When I asked him what he was doing, he told me that love was dead.”

“That’s not my problem,” Louis shrugged.

“Louis, he’s brokenhearted.”

“Again, I can’t help him. Maybe he should go back to his wife.”

“Ines?,” Liam asked.

“How do you know about Ines?,” Louis asked, startled.

“With everything Harry’s been going through with the divorce and the hard time that she’s been giving him? He talks about his life while we’re cooking you know.”

“Well!,” Louis threw up his hands. “It’s lovely that he talks about his life with _someone_ because he’s certainly not talking about it with _me!”_

Louis slammed out of his office. He needed to go for a run to get some of this frustration out before the entire wait staff quit on him. He changed into his running clothes in the bathroom and, after telling the front of the house staff to take an hour break, headed down to Central Park.

Louis merged in with others running counterclockwise on the inside lane of the outer drive. He tried to tell himself to stay calm, but before long his frustration overtook him and he was sprinting at full speed up and down the rolling hills on the east side of the loop. As he cruised down the hill toward the Boat House, he pulled up and slowed to a jog to catch his breath.

Louis heard a whirring noise and turned his head to the right to see Harry on a hoverboard pull even with him in the bike lane.

“What the fuck,” Louis panted.

“Louis, stop running,” Harry yelled, a panicked edge to his voice.

“What are you doing here?,” Louis yelled back, refusing to stop.

“I need to talk to you!”

“No!,” Louis shouted and sped up, charging up Cat Hill so fast that he legs burned.

Harry leaned forward and accelerated to keep pace with him. “Please stop, I’m worried that this thing will explode!”

“Why are you on a hoverboard?”

“I borrowed it from Cliff but I don’t really know how to use it! Please stop before I fall and break my arm!”

“No!” Louis yelled back again, huffing and puffing but staying at top pace until he reached the entrance at 90th Street. He turned abruptly onto the bridle path that surrounded the reservoir, knowing that Harry couldn’t follow onto the gravel path on Cliff’s hoverboard.

To Louis’s surprise, Harry jumped off the hoverboard and sprinted after him. (The hoverboard continued along the drive, riderless.) Harry grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop.

“Louis, please,” Harry said, breathless after sprinting only a few yards.

“What is your problem?”

“I want to explain, to tell you why-”

“Why you never mentioned that you’re married? Or that you have a kid? Or why the fucking _kitchen staff_ knows more about you than I do?” Louis was shouting and people running past on the bridle path were slowing and staring as they jogged by.

“Louis,” Harry pulled Louis to the side of the path and lowered his voice. “I should have told you that I’m still married but I can explain. I filed for divorce three years ago, but Ines has been using her family’s money to stonewall and drag things out. She’s furious that I’ve moved to the U.S. and she’s trying to keep Sandrine from coming to visit me. It’s a mess.”

“Harry, you didn’t even tell me that you have a child!” Louis shouted, wrenching his arm away.

Harry ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “Everything in that part of my life is just so complicated. Yesterday, when Ines called me to tell me that Sandrine was in the hospital, I was so upset but it turned out to be another one of her tricks. Sandrine fell off the swings at the park but she was fine, and Ines and I ended up having a huge fight. She went back to Paris today and I think she's finally going to sign the divorce papers. I just wanted to keep what we have safe from all that, at least for a while.”

“You can’t separate these parts of your life from me!,” Louis said, feeling hot, angry tears welling up.

“You’re right,” Harry moaned, looking truly agonized. “I’ve left information out to make things easier for me and that was wrong."

"You made me feel so stupid. Ines said-"

"You’re so quick to believe the worst things that someone you don’t even know has to say about me! Ines was fucking with you too. Why are you so quick to doubt me when all I’ve done is love you?”

Louis started backing away from Harry. His head was swimming. _How is this my fault?_ Louis turned back on the bridle path and started climbing the steps up to the path around the reservoir.

“Louis please, stop pushing me away!,” Harry yelled up to Louis, tears streaming down his face. “I know Zayn hurt you, but stop looking for excuses not to trust me!”

“You know what Harry?,” Louis shouted over the railing. “It doesn’t even matter. This was going to be over soon anyway.” Louis took one last look at Harry’s tear-stained face and took off along the reservoir path. He ran until he chest burned and he couldn’t see anymore from the tears in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a video about the wagyu beef/parsnip dish at Alinea. https://youtu.be/8wWYTG0IR0s


	15. Chapter 15

Louis sat at the end of the bar at the Perfect Pint, still in his running clothes. He was slumped forward with his forehead resting on the bar.

“Hey,” Niall nudged his shoulder as he pushed a shot of whiskey toward him. “Drink this and you’ll feel better.”

“Will it take away the embarrassment of having a screaming match and an emotional meltdown in front of most of the Central Park Track Club?,” Louis moaned.

“They say you’re not a New Yorker until you’ve cried in public.”

Louis raised his shot glass. “Then I should be the Mayor of New York City after today.”

“We’ve all been there,” Niall said sadly.

“When have you been there?,” Louis asked.

“It’s a figure of speech,” Niall smiled.

“Ugh,” Louis moaned, putting his head back down on the bar. “This is what I get for getting involved with a chef. They’re nothing but trouble.”

“Louis, I know that Harry messed up. But I do wish you would talk to him.”

Louis lifted his head abruptly. “Why are you taking his side?”

“Hey,” Niall said, lifting his hands in surrender. “I’ve known you for a long time. I was here for the entire Zayn situation. And I’ve never seen anyone as good for you as Harry.”

“How can someone who’s not honest with me be good for me?”

“His life is complicated and he handled it badly. But you’re an idiot if you can’t see that Harry is so in love with you. That’s real. It’s right in front of you and you can’t even see it.”

“How would you even know, Niall,” Louis sighed wearily.

“Because I saw him the night at Lit, and here the night Zayn came back. And probably half a dozen more times when he’s come in here to talk to me about you after work. All Harry talks about is you.”

“If he loves me so much, why is he leaving?,” Louis said, feeling the tears come again.

“Did he not ask you?”

“Ask me what?”

“Oh, _fuck,”_ Niall said, looking anywhere but at Louis.

“Niall! Ask me what?”

“He was supposed to ask you if you wanted to come to California with him to start the new restaurant. He wants to spend his life with you, Louis.”

Louis almost fell off of his bar stool. The restaurant he got the email about. Harry wanted him to come with him to start that restaurant. Niall stood behind the bar, silent for once. They took a deep breath, staring at each other with wide eyes.

“The reopening is tomorrow,” Louis said after a moment. “I have an idea but I’ll need your help.”

****

Louis kept busy that day at the restaurant and tried to steer clear of the kitchen staff to the extent that he could avoid it. It wasn’t hard; Harry and the sous chefs were holed up in the kitchen, going over last minute prep.

Back when things were good, when Harry and Louis were uncomplicated, they had planned every detail of the reopening down to the minute. There would be one 7pm seating of special guests, at which the prix fixe menu would be presented with the wine pairings. There’d be no menus or ordering, just a delicate progression of dishes meant to delight the diners. But Louis was going to add a very special surprise to the evening. He talked it over with Liam that morning, and Liam had spread the word to the rest of the staff. The only one in the dark was Harry.

At 6:30pm sharp, Louis was nervous as he threw open the blue doors of Per Se for the first time in over a month. The first guests were already waiting just outside in the Time Warner Center. He escorted them into the salon, where Cliff was waiting with flutes of champagne. The guests marveled at the new, sleek salon and tried to get a look into the transformed dining room.

Just before 7pm, the last guest slipped through the door - New York Times critic Pete Wells. Louis had worried about inviting critics on the reopening night but Harry assured him that the risk would be worth it to show Wells the new menu before most of the rest of New York. He escorted Pete and his party to the best table in the house.

After the diners were settled and presented with the amuse bouche (Harry’s special hot potato/cold potato invention), Harry came gliding into the dining room. When he appeared, the guests burst into applause.

Just the sight of him took Louis’s breath away. Harry looked tired but his skin glowed under the new, gentler lighting. His hair was pulled back into a bun with a few curls laying soft against his neck. He was wearing a chef’s coat open over his usual uniform of a thin white v-neck tshirt, tight black jeans, and motorcycle books.

“Welcome to the new Per Se!,” Harry said, arms spread wide to encompass the room. The diners applauded again. “I’m so excited for you to discover our new menu and everything that we’ve been crafting here over the past few weeks. We hope that you enjoy the new, passionate culinary style of Per Se and come back again and again as we continue to innovate. _Bon appetit!_ ”

The diners applauded again and Harry turned to go back to the kitchen. Liam stopped him and cleared his throat. “Our maitre d’ Louis Tomlinson would like to say a few words.” Harry turned to where Louis was standing by the door to the salon.

Louis took a deep breath before speaking. “Thank you Liam. Welcome again, and thank you for coming. I wanted to take the opportunity to say something about passion, and the passion that Chef Styles has brought back to Per Se. He’s encouraged us - all of us - to find our passion and to live that passion here at Per Se. I hope you’ll notice that we’re showing a bit more of ourselves and we hope that you welcome this openness.”

Louis look toward where Harry was standing, a quizzical smile playing on his lips.

“In that spirit, I’d like to share something with you. I’ve known many of you for years, but you probably don’t know that I’m a musician. That’s my passion. I’d like to share a song with you that I wrote for someone that I love very much.” Louis looked directly at Harry and mouthed the words _I love you_.

Niall came into the dining room from the salon with his guitar and started playing softly behind Louis, who sang.

_I want to write you a song_

_One that’s beautiful as you are sweet_

_With just a hint of pain for the feeling that I get when you are gone_

_I wanna write you a song_

_I wanna lend you my coat_

_One that’s a soft as your cheek_

_So when the world is cold you’ll have a hiding place where you can go_

_I wanna lend you my coat_

_Everything I need I get from you_

_And giving back is all I wanna do_

_I wanna build you a boat_

_One that’s as strong as you are free_

_So anytime you think that your heart is gonna sink, you know it won’t_

_I wanna build you a boat_

_Everything I need I get from you_

_And giving back is all I wanna do_

Before singing the last verse, Louis looked directly at Harry, who was surrounded by the staff who had come out from the back of the house to hear Louis’s song. Harry had tears in his eyes. (Liam, standing directly behind Harry, was also in tears.)

_I wanna write you a song_

_One to make your heart remember me_

_So any time I’m gone, you can listen to my voice and sing along_

_I wanna write you a song_

_I wanna write you a song._

There was an excruciating pause as the last strains of Niall’s guitar fell away, and then the staff and guests burst into applause.

The diners gathered around Louis to shake his hand and congratulate him, but Louis only wanted to see Harry. He thanked them but made his way through the crowd to Harry, who was waiting for him, face flushed and smiling.

“Louis, you’re beautiful,” Harry said, taking Louis’s face into his hands. “Come to California with me.”

Louis smiled as Harry kissed him, Harry’s lips soft and sweet against his. “I thought you’d never ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies again to Pete Wells, who probably doesn't know Louis Tomlinson.


	16. Epilogue

"Ready?," Harry asked as he buttoned up Sandrine's coat and secured the wool hat to her head.

"Uncle Louis doesn't make me wear a hat outside," Sandrine grumbled.

"That's because Uncle Louis is a bad influence," Harry smirked. Louis shrugged mischievously and winked at Harry's daughter.

Harry and Louis each took one of Sandrine's tiny hands and walked out of the Time Warner Center and east on 57th Street. They were headed to FAO Schwartz, where Harry had promised Sandrine she could pick out one stuffed animal for the flight to San Francisco. 

"Now, how many stuffed animals are you going to get today?," Harry prompted.

"A hundred!," Sandrine shouted.

"A MILLION!," Louis bellowed.

"You stinker," Harry mumbled ruefully, shaking his head but still leaning to receive a sloppy kiss on his cheek from Louis. 

After they passed through the revolving door at FAO Schwartz, Sandrine took off running toward a tower of Gund teddy bears. Harry threaded his arm through Louis' and walked slowly with him through the displays of over-sized stuffed zoo animals.

"You know, I've never been here," Louis said.

"Really? Even though you've lived in New York for years?"

"Too touristy," Louis wrinkled his nose.

"Well, do you want a souvenir to take to California too?"

"No, as long as I have you I'll be ok," Louis said, smiling bashfully.

Harry pulled him close, put his hands on either side of Louis' face, and kissed him softly on the lips. "You'll always have me, babe."

"Daddy!," Sandrine yelled as she came around the corner behind a display of nearly life-sized giraffes. "Daddy! Louis! Look!" She was dragging a lion with a full mane with her.

"That lion is twice your size!," Harry exclaimed.

"Please?," Sandrine pleaded as she hopped up and down. Louis joined her. "PLEASE!," they yelled together.

"Fine, but I'm going to have to buy an extra seat on the plane for...," Harry looked at Sandrine questioningly.

"Niall!," Sandrine shouted.

Harry and Louis looked at each other and then broke out laughing. "You're naming the lion after Uncle Niall?," Louis asked.

"Yes, look his hair sticks up just like Uncle Niall's hair!"

"Ok," Harry smiled at Louis and then down at Sandrine, delighted at his new little family. "Let's buy Niall the Lion. Then we have a plane to catch." 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to S.M., who once told me that there was fic and a fandom for whatever I was passionate about. Thanks for setting me on this path!


End file.
